The Girl Next Door
by The Lavender Empress
Summary: With Old Man Iago gone and the summer all to himself, Leo tries his hardest to make every moment count—while also keeping an eye on the new neighbors that move in right after. Including the young girl who unknowingly makes it all worth the while. (Modern!AU)
1. Chapter 1

**1**

Spring came around like any other season, and died off faster than the blink of an eye. The subtle rays of the summer sun began to beam down wherever it could-from the edge of the horizon to Leo's own school.

As the last days of spring rolled by, he'd start getting used to feeling the sweat that caked his head, and the bitter sensation of a parched throat. Everyday, school remained exactly the same—arrival, work, lunch, _more_ work, and the long bus ride home.

After the bus finally pulled into his neighborhood a little later than normal, Leo braced himself for what felt like a five hundred mile walk to his house—a comfortable two story that pretty much looked like all the others.

And Old Man Iago, with his usual repugnant scowl, would be there nagging after him as he closed in on his house, sitting sideways on a dirty lawn chair on the front of a rickety wooden porch. Forty-four wasn't so old to Leo, for his own father was much older than that—but he might as well have been eighty.

Countless wrinkles stretched across his forehead, as if an aggravated crow had flown in and used his face for sharpening its claws. He wore glasses, but they were so grossly smudged that one could hardly tell if he could see. The hair on his head was oily and stringy-emitting a hideous odor of grease and sweat.

And if one heard about what the other kids in the area told them, they'd know that Iago almost never, in the history of _ever_ , smiled. It was always the same, classic scowl, and a threatening gleam in his eyes.

But Leo knew his words were as empty as his heart. Given that he _had_ one.

"Coming home late _again_ , Leo?" He muses, furrowing bushy, unkempt brows. "Your father should be ashamed."

Leo cringed to himself when his name spills from the older man's mouth in a raspy drawl, as if there was nothing but mucus clogged down his throat. He did know, however, that he had to be unconditionally polite to keep his father's good name.

"The bus was a little late this time around." He sighed, inserting his keys inside the lock. "Luckily, I don't have that much homework today."

"Oh, _please_." Iago was hardly impressed, turning his scowl into a disgusted frown. "You're like all the others, boy. Wasting their time away on games and charades, and not enough on books." He muttered bitterly. "Why, I've never even seen you pick one up."

 _Because you barely know me **,**_ was what Leo wanted to say–but the last thing he needed was for the man to tattletale to his sister.

"I'll read more in the future, sir."

"Don't _"sir"_ me, boy. Sucking up to a man like me won't get you anywhere. In fact, when I was about your age..."

Leo casually ignores Iago's daily berating, letting the brisk air of the AC flush his cheeks cold once the keys fall into place. The door shuts behind him softly—and for a moment, all is quiet.

Until, eventually, a chorus of excited barking propels him to notice the family dog, Keaton, who lets his drooling tongue hang lopsided while his tail wagged furiously back and fourth. He crept into the hallway upon hearing Leo's footsteps, rushing forward to try and gnaw at his shoes.

He was a dog no more than a year old, brung home one day by Camilla, who had spoiled him senseless since he was a pup. Back then, Leo didn't like the aspect of having such a thing parade through his house day and night. He used to think dogs were gross and unruly–but of course, that was just his fear talking.

"Hello, Keaton," he says with a smile. "Did you watch over the house like I told you?"

Keaton lets out another joyous bark, jumping up till his jet black paws reached Leo's thigh. Leo wasn't so sure if he liked the thought of dog drool being plastered to his cheeks like glue, but Keaton often thought otherwise.

"Good boy."

Once noticing that the poor fellow was hungry, Leo would dig through the kitchen for a short moment to fetch a bowl of water and a restock of dog chow, setting it in front of the hyperactive mutt with ease.

He'd do his homework in the kitchen soon after, having Keaton's usual barking as background noise.

It was a cycle of constant repeat that kept going for months–and eventually, a whole year.

...Until one day, Iago was no longer sitting on his porch, watching the hours pass bitterly. The cycle had been broken, and he didn't even know why.

Leo came home from school one day, and like any other, he did exactly the same things he'd been doing for the past year.

And each day, as summer began to unfurl its rays to the rest of the world, Iago was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his brooding presence was replaced by a series of moving vans, real estate agents, and new homeowners itching for a tour.

Eventually, a _Sold_ sign arrives at the end of May, standing dead center in Iago's rotting front yard. He did his typical chores for Keaton, and finished his homework a bit earlier than usual.

There was finally enough time to spare to play a new online game that was taking his class by storm— _Valla_.

Many said it could be played best while on computer, but the mobile version was alright too. The animations were the best of the best, and truly, that was one of the few reasons Leo had even bothered to try it out.

Besides the obvious glitches and constant maintenance notifications that clogged his emails, it was an alright game overall. But it was fantastic at getting one addicted to it.

He logged in with a password he never thought of changing since he was ten, browsing through his logs to check if anything new had arrived. There were two new missions that required three other members of his team—a band of people (or robots, in his sister Elise's words) he met online through tackling the game in his first try. They were reasonably nice, and were always enthusiastic whenever a new mission came up.

They were all online too, which made Leo all the more happy. (Even though his physical expression hadn't changed since he went into his room.)

After only thirty minutes of having the house to himself, playing nothing but Valla, Leo hears the low hum of a car pulling into the driveway. The front door opens while Keaton makes another daring escapade down the hall, letting out a series of happy barks when Camilla's voice echoes from his room.

" _Keaton~!_ My _darling_ child..." She scratches him behind the ears, and then the tummy–his most vulnerable places. "Did you miss Mommy?"

He rolls about in her lap and licks her cheeks amidst her laughter, settling down when she pecked his forehead with a soft kiss. Another voice chirps from behind Camilla as she sets Keaton down—A young girl with long, blonde hair tied in two pigtails.

 _Elise_ , Leo thought. Her voice was always the loudest of the two.

"Hiya, Keaton!" She shouted, one octave too high. "Guess who got an A on her science quiz?"

Keaton barked twice before peppering her face with wet kisses.

Leo voluntarily smiles when he hears this news, knowing it was him who helped her study for it. After getting himself leveled to a suitable number, he leaves the training grounds onscreen and clicks on the mission icon.

* * *

 **Boss 23: GOLEM D**

 ** _POWER RANKING: 1904_**

 _ **Last Defeated by:** TripleThreat, FujinGod, and MaidenLance _

_(Record Time: 6:59:08)_

 _Beat this team's record time to win a bonus!_

* * *

Leo quirks a curious brow at the usernames, but he quickly remembered how embarrassing his already was.

There really wasn't a point in judging. Yet.

* * *

"Leo..."

Halfway through the afternoon, the door to Leo's room clicks open suddenly—and the scent of lavender and hibiscuses snakes up his nostrils.

"Hello, Camilla," he greets, glancing upward for a moment. "How were your interviews today?"

His sister winks playfully as she sets her purse on his bed, sitting on top of it to ease the pain in her heel. "It was _boring_ , as always." She replied. "You wouldn't _believe_ the questions they asked this time..."

He quirks a curious brow towards her. " _This_ time? Have they denied you before?"

"On occasion. But that's _our_ little secret."

Leo grins at her without looking away from the screen, amused by his sister's quaint humor. "That doesn't sound too bad, then. At least you don't have to talk to Iago everyday..." A shudder runs down his spine at the notion of even thinking about him.

"Hm...touché. But that reminds me..." She rests a hand upon her chin. "I've been meaning to fill you in on what Father told me this morning."

Camilla tells Leo what she thinks is pretty good news—and though he loves his sister, he can't help but feel like the apocalypse was coming a little bit closer than he expected. But for his game's sake, he still found the time to pause it before looking up towards her from his desktop. The scrimmage of battle would have to wait.

"He _finally_ moved out?" He asked.

Leo had already heard rumors over the past few weeks that Iago was moving back to his homeland in Europe, making the house he'd leave behind empty and abandoned. Everyone in the neighborhood, with the exception of his father, seemed surprised at the news.

His older sister nods her head, lazily stretched across his bed as if she'd just gotten up. She'd done it enough times to the point where the boy could care less.

"Mhm. He's _finally_ gone, dear."

A family hailing from Japan was to take his place, having their belongings already shipped to the front of Iago's doorstep.

Whenever Leo got home from school nowadays, he'd sometimes see silhouettes of people crowd around the home, walking through the doors with countless pieces of furniture, before disappearing again in a large, bulky truck that made its presence well known in the neighborhood.

With the school year coming to a close, he wondered how long he would last before the constant replays of his games would bore him senseless, and when he'd grow irritated at seeing the same scenery over and over as summer rolled by.

But his friends online were waiting for him to get back into the game already–forcing his thoughts to wait until later.

"That's nice..." He mutters for the sake of conversation. "Do you think Xander will come visit us over the break?"

Camilla shrugged with uncertainty, braiding her hair while watching her brother scout around in the rubble of a damaged town on his screen. "If he's not crowded in his studies, he just might." She finally replied. "I heard this year was harder on him than usual."

"Makes sense," He added. "It's his last year in college."

There's a hint of jealousy in Leo's voice—but it was buried by the loud blasts of animated fire and explosives, along with the outcry of a raging dragon.

Despite having what he felt like was more than enough siblings, he only truly lived with two—one was his eldest sister, Camilla, and his youngest sister, Elise. Their father, Garon, stayed in a single room on the second floor, daring to be bothered.

Xander lived up north in a fancy little university that everyone talked about–he wanted to be a doctor to make Garon proud, and rarely visited because of the work that came with it.

Camilla was in college too, but she preferred to take her classes online—aside from Leo, their aging father, and Keaton—she figured Elise would've been terribly bored throughout her middle school years. She was one of the few people besides her friends at school willing to play with her.

"You'll be there one day too, Leo." She tells him, poking the side of his cheek in an attempt to mess with his concentration. "Dinner'll be ready soon."

"Alright. Thanks."

Once she left the room, Leo went right back into the game, catching up with the rest of his team to make up for lost time. His avatar was standing inside a dark, ominous looking cavern, with a single red checkpoint flickering on and off. A challenger had arrived.

A sudden duo of messages popped up on the right corner of his screen, blocking a section of his surroundings. Two people had emerged from both sides of Leo's computer—one held onto a thick, yellow tome, and the other a small silver bow.

* * *

 ** _(1)_ _TheChosenOne_**

 _Boss, should we try and advance now?_ _I heard there are some very powerful tanks beyond that door..._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _They're probably hackers, Boss._ _Let's give them a good beating..._

* * *

Leo lowers a brow in annoyance. He's heard of these "tanks" before—one time too many. His comrades had too, but unlike him, they were generally skeptical of just how strong they were.

Bent on saving time, he typed back a quick reply before he got summoned for dinner.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _...Let's go for it._ _Even if we lose, we'll still get some experience points as a consolation prize._

* * *

Another message pops up just as he sent the last; this time, from another one of his friends. A woman walks past him and the other two men on the screen, standing right under the flickering light.

* * *

 ** _(1)_ _ DragonAssassin_**

 _I shall terminate anyone you wish me to._ _Do not hesitate on giving me a signal._

* * *

Leo shivered at the thought, but was glad at least one person was willing to go through with it. _DragonAssassin_ was fairly powerful on her own—the enemies on the lower floors only half as strong as her.

 _TheChosenOne_ took a few moments to reply, before finally settling with an answer.

* * *

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Alright. Go for it!_

* * *

The sun goes back to sleep as the moon rises into place in the sky, shading Leo's room a fresh shade of grey as the light of the computer screen fills in the rest.

* * *

 **I decided to give a Modern!AU a try, and happened to find this buried in my drafts.**

 **I haven't figured out a specific day that updates will always appear, but for now, I'm thinking every Monday. There seems to be a small gathering of Leo/Sakura fans, so I couldn't help but expand the love for it ^^**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

Waves of the summer's first night hits the pale outbreak of light diminishing from the horizon, burning an image in Takumi's mind that he'd never forget.

Though the plane was already uncomfortable as can be, with backbreaking seats, disgusting food, and awkward flight attendants, seeing the night sky once more put his conscience at ease. Takumi had lost track of time since he got to the airport in the first place, feeling everything he had ever come to know wash away as soon as he stepped up the short flight of stairs to board the plane.

As far as he can tell, he's the only one in his family that's awake, aside from his father. His mother slumbers softly against his shoulder, missing the moon's glow for a second time in a row.

The light snoring of his older sister against the window behind him keeps him awake, but it wasn't as if he had intended on falling back asleep anyhow. Takumi had been staying up at ungodly hours ever since his brother, Ryouma, told him what he considered as the news of the century.

Their father, Sumeragi, had recently gotten an alarming notice from his job, admitting him a stellar promotion that was only available on the other side of the world. Ryouma had also been given multiple scholarships for his more than pleasant grades in the states as well, including his excellence in graphic design.

He learned how to paint from their mother, Mikoto, and a family friend that Takumi had only seen a couple of times when he was in elementary school. (A childhood crush was formed, but no one _ever_ knew.)

Years had passed long after the discovery, and Ryouma soon found his talent in each stroke of paint that spilled onto the canvas. People from all over began to take notice—and colleges started paying attention, too.

Everyone, it seemed, wanted his older brother. (But since he was the eldest, Takumi pretty much expected it. It was one of the _"1001 Things A Younger Brother Had To Accept"_ that he learned as a child.) Changing schools in his senior year of college was hard, but it only seemed fitting that he'd be swayed by foreigners.

His sisters, Hinoka and Sakura, were probably swayed by them too. Foreigners were always intriguing, no matter where they had come from.

Takumi and Sakura still had a good few years left of school–dreading the fact that it'd take even longer once they'd arrive in America.

With school out at last in their prefecture, however, there wasn't a moment to lose to find a house to suit all their needs. School, work, and an extra room for an unknown purpose.

After weeks of searching, Mikoto finally found what she proudly called a perfect place—a bitter, ominous home overlooking a dead field of grass.

But on the housing website, it looked like an everyday two story house with a more than perfect lawn. The windows were well wiped and clean, free of scratches and dust. Not a thing was out of place.

Her eyes were lit with a newfound joy, doting over the house as if it were a grand masterpiece. "It's near Ryouma's college, too!" She mused. "And the neighborhood is _very_ nice..."

Sumeragi and Ryouma sit close to each other on top of lavishly furnished cushions passed down from their family, looking as if they were two versions of the same person. Their expressions mirrored each other's as they both take turns looking at the house, giving off an indecisive vibe.

Hinoka was too busy with schoolwork to check out the home herself. She did hope, however, that it would've been big enough for her own separate room. (Or so she _said_.)

Takumi and Sakura would usually come home from school around this time, slipping off their outdoor shoes near the front door. Mikoto whirled her head around as she watched them come in through the small corridor of space leading into the living room, waving toward them happily.

"Takumi, Sakura!" She quips. "How was your day?"

Sakura clumsily answers as usual, while Takumi inches away from even acknowledging her question, casting a downward glance towards the ground. He grimaces once he passes the spacious cage of the family's pet—a _demonic_ creature in the form of a small, sleeping fox that Takumi wished he'd never met.

Nishiki was the little rascal's name, and he had stolen the hearts of both his sisters while napping next to their tent on a camping trip that had occurred long ago. Nishiki was a sly little being, always prowling around in places that he didn't need to be in.

One of those places happened to be Takumi's own room.

But before Takumi can delve into his list of personal grudges toward the fox (who _somehow_ learned how to purr), Mikoto summons both him and Sakura toward the computer. "Take a look at this, you two," She whispered. "I want to see what you think."

Red flags pop up in his head, but it wasn't enough to think up a good excuse for him to leave the room.

"Your school would be _here_...and Sakura's would be here. Everything seems to be pretty close in range..."

Sakura nods her head accordingly, even though she only understands about half of what her mother said. "W-Well, I think it's _nice!"_ She chirps nervously. "What about you, Takumi?"

Takumi stared lazily at the screen, barely paying attention to the routes displayed on a map showing the address of the house. He noticed Mikoto had already plotted out which place was which on small red checkpoints.

His father's name was placed on the farthest red dot. One route stretched a bit too far for his liking—and naturally, he let his know-it-all instincts get the better of him.

"So...would that mean that Dad has to drive for two hours to work every day?" He points to the top half of the screen in pure skepticism. "From here to here, right?"

Sumeragi raises a brow that can barely be seen under the mane of his hair. Mikoto makes a hesitant _"Hmph,"_ before examining the checkpoints again.

"Well..."

"Not exactly, Takumi. " Ryouma shook his head, pointing towards the map a second time. "See, Dad's actually going to work _here_ –that's only thirty minutes away."

While he wished Ryouma hadn't spoken at all, Takumi simply nodded his head to accept the obvious failure in his calculation. He takes a short glance towards Sumeragi, whose expression still wears him out.

Takumi never knew what the man was thinking about, or if he was even thinking at all. Whatever crossed his mind, though, it surely wasn't _ever_ anything about _him_. That much was certain.

"Right...sorry."

Without another word, Takumi turned away and ascended up the small flight of stairs leading to his room, feeling Sakura's timid presence follow him. Having nowhere to go, she decided to join him to get some bothersome homework out of the way.

Meanwhile, his phone buzzed constantly with texts from his friends, ranging from long, carefully typed messages—translating to, _"Hey, Takumi. I'm here to type out a thousand word essay as to how much I'll miss you"_ — to constant spams of _CALL ME,_ over and over again.

Hinata and Oboro were hardly the people that Takumi ever thought about being friends with, as they were both equally loud, boisterous, and extremely hyperactive—especially when playing Valla. Had he still been in elementary school, he would've thought they were the most annoying people on the planet.

But as he got older, he noticed that they were also the only people who bothered sticking with him throughout middle school. They disregarded his sharp tongue by calling it a _"phase"_ , and considered his sarcastic taunts his way of _"showing affecfion."_

Unlike all the others, Takumi felt that the duo truly _understood_ him—personality and all. His heart jumped multiple times once he finished reading through the plethora of messages piled onto his phone, grinning softly to himself.

It wasn't very long until pure nostalgia kicked in as the week winded down before his eyes–memories he'd thought to have forgotten soon resurfaced the longer he thought about it.

Takumi hadn't realized how much he would've been missing at home until Mikoto started scolding him for not getting all his things packed properly.

Hinata and Oboro were friends he could _never_ replace, no matter how hard he'd have wanted to try.

Takumi wanted nothing more than to take a long, comforting nap–a nap so comfortable that he'd never wake up. The lovely faces carved into his memory peel away into a brittle nothingness in his mind, depressing back into a false reality contained within the barriers of his thoughts.

The lids of his eyes lower as the plane flew on, carrying his dreams with it. Whatever they happened to be.

* * *

"... _Takumi_..."

The voice beside him is deathly quiet, but it can still be heard amongst the calm atmosphere inside the plane. Coming back to his senses, Takumi lolls his head around to the right, noticing his little sister looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

"What is it?" he whispers back, still terribly exhausted. "You should be sleeping." He makes a mental note to himself to be crowned hypocrite of the year.

Sakura fidgets under his words, fumbling with her thumbs in the dead of night. "I-I...I was having a nightmare about something." She replied timidly. "It's _kind_ of stupid, though..."

 _Enlighten me_. With nothing else to do or see, the usual frustration of listening to a nightmare didn't bother him.

"...Go on."

She blinks again, clearly expecting to have already gotten rejected. "U-Um...it was about Tsubaki and Hana..."

A part of him feels like vomiting–but with the night the way it was, he tries not to show his distaste to her worries. Even while she was asleep, he could hear her cry to herself over the loss of her friends-the ones she'd known since childhood.

As her brother, Takumi knew he couldn't comfort her like Hinoka, or sing her some random little lullaby like Ryouma—it was something he didn't know how to do.

For a long time, he figured he was just the one guy Sakura got _stuck_ with as the youngest of the family. She was so kind, selfless, and terribly sweet. A girl like that didn't need a brother like him.

Sleep deprived as he was, he makes some time in his lousy schedule for a retelling of Sakura's latest nightmare.

"...Tell me everything," he muttered. "I'm listening."

He spends the final hours on the plane listening to her speak–hours that feel like eternities at a time.

But for her sake, it was the least he could've done.

* * *

The stroke of midnight signals their arrival in the states—a long ride from the airport from a family friend studying abroad sends even Sumeragi to sleep, awaiting the drowsy morning that was to come.

Sakura keeps herself snug in Ryouma's arms, smiling as she slept soundly against his chest. A burrow of jealously finds its way through Takumi's mind, but it quickly dissipated once he realized what he was feeling.

Dumb feelings. _Petty_ feelings.

Nishiki slumbers peacefully in the cage beside Hinoka, taking up Takumi's precious elbow room in spite of the seats still vacant in the van. He still wished for a chance to kick him out onto the side of the road.

They arrive later on at the wee hours of dawn, the dark tinge of blue signaling the start of a new day that no one in the family was ready to start.

"I guess meeting the neighbors will have to wait till tomorrow," Mikoto whispers, breathing softly. "Try and get some more rest for tonight, okay?"

Ryouma and Hinoka nod their drooping heads, getting out of the van once Sumeragi unloaded their personal belongings. He wakes up Sakura for her to stand on her own, walking up the porch steps quietly.

It was too dark to discern every detail—but Takumi had a pretty good feeling that the nicely decorated exterior of the house on the website was anything but true. The floorboards of the porch let out a rattled creaking sound upon his every step. The windows looked like they hadn't been washed in the last fifty years.

It was still hard to believe that there were people that even wanted this house– _aside_ from his mother.

The silhouette of an old man appears in the highest window of the house right next to them, as if having anticipated their arrival since the very beginning. Chills ran down Takumi's spine when he realized that this peculiar shadow moved with him, watching his every move.

 _These neighbors are crazy._

Hinoka carries Nishiki's cage inside while her siblings follow in suit, setting it down near the open space that smelled like a century old perfume. Ryouma offered to take Sakura up to her room, but Takumi forces the task to himself.

For the long, grueling summer that awaited him, Takumi wanted nothing more than to prove himself as the brother Sakura deserved.

"It's alright, Ryouma," he says, taking his drowsy sister's hand. "I've got it."

Confusion outlines the brows on his forehead, but Ryouma politely obliged, following Hinoka upstairs. He still needed to get back to his painting in the morning.

A small victory grin becomes plastered on Takumi's face while he looks back at Sakura, whose weary expression hadn't changed since she got forced to wake up again.

"C'mon, sleepyhead," He murmurs, almost giddy. "We don't have all night."

Sakura seemed amused at his light tone, feeling lightheaded at the mention of sleep again. Nodding her head quietly, she followed her brother up the stairs, thinking of soft pillows and herds of counting sheep.

He kindly ignores the fact that he has no idea which room is hers.

* * *

 **I happened to have finished this chapter last night, so here's an early one on the house.**

 **Thank you all _so_ much for the kind messages, follows, and favorites from the first chapter! I wasn't expecting such positive feedback, to be truthfully honest. They all brought a smile (and some laughter after reading them all over and over) to my face. ****And I noticed some past readers of my other works drop by too! It's lovely to see you all again. :)**

 **I hope I can continue to entertain you with this story in the future. Take care!**

 ** _Note: The names used will be a mix of both the Japanese and localized English names from Fire Emblem Fates._**


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Needless to say, Golem D had proved to be more than a handful for Leo and his comrades—it was much stronger than any of them had anticipated, even with the addition of constant grinding.

 _TheChosenOne_ and _KillerSadist_ were dead after the first twenty minutes, and after only thirty, Leo had been called down to dinner, leaving _DragonAssassin_ alone to face the perilous fiend on her own.

An entire hour had passed before it had finally perished under _DragonAssassin's_ axe, while she hung on with a single health point. Her avatar's clothes were ripped and patchy, while blood seeped through her arms and legs. Her dragon makes a final shriek before falling on its side—a side effect of poison that had been inflicted on the beast earlier.

Leo had arrived back in the nick of time before seeing the words **_Challenge Cleared!_** light up on his screen, wiping away at a glob of tomato sauce still crammed in the corner of his mouth.

While he felt more than guilty over leaving the battle so early, there was no way he would've let Elise take the last helping of spaghetti from under his nose. Especially when his father was the one cooking.

Their consolation prize, in the end, was only a pitiful sack of fifty gold coins. _Fifty._

Even the amount in the tutorial was more than that.

A good handful of experience points were given, but it didn't excuse the fact that Leo and his team were practically destroyed against a single little golem. It wouldn't have felt like such a kick in the gut if his notifications hadn't blown up with rage afterward.

* * *

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Gee, I wonder which wise old soul told everyone this was a bad idea..._

 _Was it me? Hm..._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oh hush, you dumb pacifist._ _At least it's dead._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Hey! **You** shut up! My computer just lagged, that's all._

 _Not like you're any better._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Says the one that died **first**._

 _Even if it did lag, there's no way it could've made you attack with a 30% chance of hitting._

 _ **30%.**_

 _Let that sink in, son._

* * *

Leo pinched his nose in annoyance.

* * *

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Calm down, the both of you. This argument is stupid._

 _Shouldn't you all be congratulating the person who even killed it?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _...Oh..._

 _Crap! Sorry, boss._

 _Good job, Bel! You were awesome! :))))_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Don't say her real name online, idiot. You never know who's watching._

 _Anyway, congrats, Belka. I knew you could do it._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Wait, so **you** can say it, but **I** can't? That's not fair at all!_

 _Belka, you were amazing. **HA.**_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _...Thank you._

 _Odin, you are very kind._

 _You too, Niles._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oooh, Belka's using my name too? ;^)_

 _How romantic~_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _No._

* * *

Leo had logged off for the night after the team had said their goodbyes, seeking refuge in his bed soon after. His mind raced with all sorts of questions and thoughts, all competing to get some sort of a mention in what became a two hour conversation with the ceiling right above him.

He doesn't exactly speak aloud while he's staring, but on some nights, it almost felt as if the ceiling were a whole other person—listening to him ramble along in his head.

The weird patterns he sees etched on the walls warp in and out along the surface of the darkness, vanishing once the glow from a nearby light pole outside hits the thin crevices of his blinds. It was the same ones that would swirl around in his head whenever he closed his eyes.

He asked Xander about these small little patterns once during his sophomore year in college, learning that they were called phosphenes—something scientific he'd learned in school.

But because of the fact that the name was too abstract to remember, Leo liked to call them visions— _dreams_ , even. Things that only _he_ could see.

In one of the patterns, he can only make out a faint, fuzzy shadow of a figure moving along the wall near his doorway. Next to it lies a tall, wobbly stalk that resembles somewhat of a tree, letting small petals fly along in the distance.

It disappears completely when he tries focusing on the image again, washing away into another blob of colors and vivid swirls.

But out of all the colors in the spectrum, he remembers only one—

 _Pink._

* * *

The door to Leo's room is only halfway open–not too wide, and not too thin.

 _Alright_ , he thinks, wagging his tail. _Time to party._ Keaton bends down to hold in his excited barking, slipping into the room without making the door creak–for once.

Operation Saturday was all going according to plan.

The morning came again in small flecks of baby blue, before the heat of the sun's rays turned it a bright orange. Leo was still snoring under a plethora of covers, too immersed in his slumber to notice the sudden heap of fur scurry around in his room, bolting on top of his bed.

Keaton barked once, standing on all fours over the boy excitedly, wagging his tail a mile a minute. Saliva from his tongue dripped onto Leo's cheeks.

He watches him squirm around uncomfortably, eyebrows furrowing as if wondering if he's being watched.

Like a _guessing_ game! Keaton _loved_ those. More saliva fell when he drew his head closer to Leo, ears brushing against his face. The droplets were only just shy of his mouth until Leo's eyes shot open suddenly, blinking back disgust and the urge to scream.

 _"Keaton!"_ He cried, cringing at the moisture sticking to his cheeks. "I told you to _stop_ doing that..." Leo pushed the dog on his side, too nauseated to even touch his face.

Keaton jumps right back up like nothing ever happened, standing up on his hind legs to place his frontal paws on his shoulders. If he could speak, he would've wanted to say it was only a game–but he doubted alphabet soup could help him out like it did on the TV. Instead, Keaton burrowed himself in Leo's lap earnestly, hoping to be forgiven.

And as much as Leo wanted simply to lock him in his cage for the rest of the day, he couldn't exactly stay mad at him forever.

The poor thing was just too _adorable_.

" _Alright_ , you can drop the act," he teased, scratching his belly. "Now keep your slobber to yourself."

Leo let out a soft laugh when the dog jerkily nodded his head, laying in his lap again.

While he was distracted, however, Keaton absentmindedly gnawed at his pajama shirt, slobbering until the bottom half was nearly coated with dog saliva.

Although he got scolded again by Leo, it was all worth it when he threw him a chew toy in his direction.

Operation Saturday was a _success._

* * *

Although breakfast only consisted of two half-baked toaster strudels and a glass of orange juice, it's enough to fill Leo's stomach for the duration of the morning that was left in the day.

He finds his father sitting at the kitchen table with a paper clutched in his hands, skimming through each article with a less than enthusiastic gaze. It surprises him to see him out of his room all of a sudden.

"Morning, Father," he says, setting his glass in the sink. "Did you sleep well?"

Silence plagued the kitchen as Garon raised his head up slowly, taking in his son's presence with a contemplative stare. "Yes, I did," he replied blankly. "You?"

He kindly factored Keaton's arrival out of his reply. "The same."

Talking to his father was still an overbearing chore to deal with in the mornings, for their conversations always fell flat the minute either of them spoke. There was also the aspect of handling Garon's brooding expression—it almost never changed, unless he had seen something worth making him show the least bit of emotion.

Nonetheless, Leo still finds it worth the effort. Even without the exchange of words, he could sense that the man still loved his son very much. "...Is there anything interesting in the paper?"

"...Hardly." Garon hummed quietly. "Unless you're interested in the stock market."

A chuckle escapes his lips. "No, not today." He grabbed a cup of diced pears from the refrigerator for the sake of continuing the conversation. "May I ask where Camilla and Elise are?"

"They left a few moments ago..." His father drew a nonchalant finger towards the front door. "Something about a welcoming present..."

Though it was a vague response, it still explained the strange whiff of chocolate that Leo had been smelling amidst the burnt fumes of scrambled eggs and toast.

"It must be for the new neighbors," he mumbled. "Father, do you mind if I go with them?"

"As long as you come back."

Leo smiles while slipping a chunk of pear in his mouth. "Of course. I'll keep them out of trouble for you."

"...That would be preferred."

When he saw his son leave upstairs again, Garon set his newspaper on the table and hummed, thinking for something to do to get his mind off of breezing through the same old thing for an hour and a half.

It was still too early for any soap operas coming on—aside from the one Camilla always watched at noon with Keaton.

He stands up and makes himself comfortable on the couch in the living room, waiting for the clock on the cable box to read _"12:00"._

* * *

The stage was set, and all eyes were on them. Their lines were perfected and practiced all night, along with countless batches of cookies and sweet treats.

Camilla and Elise stood side by side, mentally preparing themselves for the moment of a lifetime.

"Alright, darling. Today's the _big_ day..."

"Yep!"

"You remember everything I told you the night before?"

Camilla grins when Elise nods her head, brimming with her usual cheery disposition. "Uh- _huh!_ They're gonna love us!"

In Camilla's hands was a small wicker basket full of untouched chocolate chip cookies wrapped in foil. She had baked them from scratch at nearly six in the morning, after waking up at five thirty with nothing to do. "I hope so," she replied, gazing at the doorbell. "It's been so long since anyone new ever moved here."

Elise held a vase of fresh hibiscuses and roses she had picked out from the garden in the backyard, anticipating the excitement of giving it to whoever opened the door first.

"I wonder why Dad didn't come with us..." Elise murmured, "He said he was hoping to see the neighbors too..."

Camilla looked down towards her sister with sudden awe, tapping her fingers against the porch railing. "He said that? _Really?"_

 _"Mhm!_ Right when I tucked him in last night." Her eyes scanned the sky longingly. "He didn't say it _exactly_ like that...but I could tell..."

"I see..." She chuckled to herself over the thought of little Elise pushing the covers up her father's face, satisfied enough that he wouldn't be cold later on. "Well, I guess he'll meet them later. Go ahead and press it."

Elise gasped when she looked up at her sister again. "You want _me_ to ring the doorbell? Are you sure?"

"Of course! You're so excited, anyhow. Go on."

The younger girl squealed quietly, tiptoeing towards the front door. She pressed a single finger lightly on the bell, hearing a light _"ding,"_ before walking back to Camilla's side.

"I hope they're home..."

* * *

Mikoto let out a calm sigh as she set down the last box of furniture on the living room floor, glancing upward at the sound of the doorbell ringing in her ears.

"Ryouma! Come here, please!" She called near the stairs, still exhausted over the layout of the house. Everything was so huge, and incredibly spacious. (And, though she chose not to admit it, she didn't want to greet her new neighbors while reeking of sweat.)

The previous homeowner had left a good handful of things behind—which intrigued her quite a bit. Old bookshelves were emptied out and replaced with a decade's worth of dust, and plum colored couches still sat intact beside a tall, prickly looking lamp that looked like it came from a yard sale.

Takumi, Sakura, and Hinoka sat side by side, sorting out through some boxes their father left out last night—but Takumi was doing more of his own thing by inspecting all the things Iago had left behind.

"Was this guy European?" He asked, poking at a rolled up bear rug in his pajamas. "They always keep these kinds of things, don't they?"

Hinoka casts a fleeting glance towards her brother, pursing her lips. "How do you know it's a he? It could be a girl."

"Common sense. What old lady would keep a _dead_ bear as a rug?"

He had a point, but Hinoka kept her own personal opinions to herself. "Perhaps it's her aesthetic."

She figured it was an alright reply until she met her brother's impassive stare.

"...I don't think that's how aesthetics work."

Sakura smiled at the two with a sense of longing, going back to taking out cushions for Nishiki. The fox had many, due to her unnannouced shopping sprees at the pet store. Takumi continued to explore the dusty archives of Iago's abandoned belongings before his face grew sour with impatience.

"Hey, where the hell is Ryouma?"

Hinoka pinched his elbow hard. "Language, Takumi." She ignores the loud squeak of pain that comes out of his mouth, going back to her part of the work without hesitation.

"G-Geez, I'm sorry." He muttered bitterly. "But still, Mom called him down here about a year ago. He needs to hurry up."

"Patience is a virtue."

It takes a couple of minutes before footsteps could be heard from upstairs, revealing an incredibly drowsy Ryouma yawning his way down the steps. A sleep mask laid sideways against his forehead, barely covering his eyebrows. A low cut tank-top covers a good portion of his chest, while a pair of red sweatpants hug his waist comfortably.

Nishiki proudly trots after him, dripping with pride upon seeing Takumi's eyes flash menacingly in his direction.

"Did you need something, Mother?" He murmured, scratching his head. "I apologize for taking so long."

Mikoto grinned, walking over to her eldest son with a soft gaze. "Could you get the door for me while I sort out the boxes? It might be guests dropping by to welcome us."

Takumi rolled his eyes to himself. _That's awfully specific._

Ryouma nodded his head and let out another elongated yawn, before making his way towards the front door. He turns the lock without ease, pulling the handle back as the open breeze hits him like a breath of fresh air.

And a rather fluorescent perfume.

A young woman with long, lilac colored hair meets his involuntarily surprised gaze, finding that his cheeks had discolored into an unsettling red. Next to her was a younger girl who could've easier passed off as her daughter.

One carried a basket of what faintly smelled like chocolate, and the other a small vase of flowers.

 _Welcoming gifts,_ he thought to himself. _Oh god, they're gifts._

His mind scrambles for something to say, but a Ryouma that was barely awake was never good with introductions.

"A-Ah..." Growing stiff with embarrassment, Ryouma quickly bowed before he said anything more. He hadn't expected to have guests arrive so randomly in the morning—but with his sleep schedule all mixed up, everything felt like a dream unraveling itself before him.

 _"My, my,"_ she drawls, waving a nonchalant hand. "Good morning to you too, I suppose." Her laughter rings in his ears like a set of jingle bells, sending him in a state of awe. "Anyway, this is just a little something my sister and I made for you all. Compliments of your new neighbors, I should say."

Ryouma composed himself a short time after letting the soft melody of her voice sink in, nodding his head. "Right. Thank you very much." He replied, taking the basket in his hands. "Erm...do you mind waiting here while I put this down?"

She was about to respond, before her sister cut in with a small frown on her face. "Don't you wanna take my flowers too, mister? I picked them out _myself!"_

Had he said the wrong thing, he was sure he would've made her cry on the spot. "I would, but I wouldn't want to drop them on accident," he tried. "I'm, er, _very_ clumsy sometimes."

Her mouth forms an innocent _"O"_ as she lowers the vase, losing her frown almost instantly. "Okay, mister!"

"I won't be long. Just wait here."

The woman smiled serenely, folding her hands behind her back. "Take all the time you need, sweetie."

* * *

Ryouma shut the door quietly and fled down the hallway, trying his best to hold back the more than evident blush skyrocketing across his cheeks.

Mikoto raised her head up once sensing his presence, nearly having a cow over the basket of cookies being placed on top of the counter. "Oh _my!_ Where'd you get those, Ryouma?"

Her voice makes his heart skip a beat in surprise. "It was a welcoming gift from one of the other neighbors," he responded, slightly off-pitch. His mind was still sorting out why the woman had called him "sweetie", after just meeting him five seconds ago. "They're waiting outside with another gift, so I'll be back again."

"Wow, they're real nice," Hinoka commented, sitting on her knees.

Mikoto shares her daughter's casual smile, wiping her forehead with a small cloth she dug out of a spare box left in the bathroom. "Oh! May I meet them? I'm sure they're quite lovely..."

Ryouma grinned sheepishly, dreading round two. _Oh, they're lovely alright..._

"Of course, Mother."

Sakura watched quietly while the two disappeared down the hallway again, feeling the atmosphere around her thicken even more so. It was uncomfortable just sitting in a place where one probably didn't belong—everything felt... _vague_ , and odd, for some reason.

America was so strange.

"U-Um, Hinoka..." She stammers, "Is it alright if I go out the back for a bit? I feel a little stuffy in here..."

Takumi raises a brow at her words, but says nothing as Hinoka nodded her head. "Try going along the side of the house. Dad and I found a bunch of frogs last night in the patio..." She shuddered at the thought. " _Nasty_ little things..."

Sakura's heart sped up at the mention of frogs, but nodded her head all the same. "O-Oh, okay! Thank you..."

She stood up and opened the sliding door, quickly skipping along to the side to avoid a frog jumping after her to what Hinoka considered the safe zone.

And this safe zone, as she soon discovered, was _insanely_ beautiful. It was the only part of the yard that wasn't plagued with dead grass and weeds. Sakura could hear birds chirp as she looked up towards the sky, gazing at the pure hue of blue with amazement.

She unknowingly walks farther out, tracing each and every little sound she hears—the birds, the wind, the rustling of the trees—until she senses another presence from the corner of her eye.

Had she walked any farther, she would've stood right in between the new neighbors waiting on their front porch—but she was still far enough to have been seen from the other side.

Her eyes glance towards a lone boy that stood right across from her—standing on the porch as if he had only just stepped outside. He had been looking at the sky too, just as amazed as she was.

Her breath hitches when their eyes meet thanks to her sudden squeak of surprise, expecting a loud, _"What're you lookin' at, stupid?"_ to chase her back into the house in fear.

But such intent was hardly evident on his face. Instead, he waves softly in her direction, uttering a barely audible _"Hello,"_ under his breath.

 _"H-Hi..."_ Smiling timidly, she returns the gesture–and unknowingly notices two things.

The way his lips curl nervously into an unlikely smile, and the way his cheeks grew red at the sight of her.

 _This is bad._

 _This is very, very, **very** bad._

Sakura retreats into the backyard yet again.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

The soft glow of the afternoon sun glazes over the slanted rooftops of Leo's house, casting a thin, jagged shadow along the edge of the porch—his own shadow, ready to march off into the unknown.

Originally, he had planned on joining Camilla and Elise on their little field trip to his new neighbor's house, outlined in a little plan he mentally plotted out beforehand in his head.

The beginning of it was simple enough: He'd walk up the steps of their home with a generic, everyday smile—say hello, and introduce himself along the way.

Nothing too extravagant like Camilla's way of greeting, and nothing as cutesy as Elise's. Something simplistic and to the point—just the way he liked it.

 _"I'm Leo,"_ was his first draft. _"Hello, my name is Leo,"_ was the second.

 _"Hello, My name is Leo. I hope we can get along,"_ was his third—and even after saying it aloud five times in front of the porch swing, he hardly felt convinced that _he_ was the one even talking.

But once it was eventually out of the way, he planned on saying a couple of one-liners that was sure to blow away at least one of them.

 _"I hope you enjoy your stay here,"_ or _"Please, you're always welcome at our place,"_ were his best options for the time being. He wasn't sure what type of people the new neighbors were like—if they were anything like Iago, he'd have already made a run for it.

But since he didn't see Camilla and Elise hightailing the joint after some time, he could safely confirm that they were kind at best. The third phase of his plan was still being formulated—as he was unsure if the first two would even _work_.

But everything had come to a startling halt the moment he had heard a high pitched squeak coming from behind him.

Part of him figured it was just the wind picking up again, or a figment of his imagination brewing weird sounds in his head. Both were plausible, until he had turned around.

If the world ever had the nerve to stop, for whatever reason, this was probably one of those times. Everything around him seemed to slow down into a single, barren moment—the clouds that lounged in the sky became nonexistent, leaving only the sun in its wake, shining down upon the girl protruding from the side of the neighbor's house.

In all her glory, Leo sees nothing but a bright blur of pink—from the hair on her head to the color of her cheeks. Her light dress hung in loose frills and lace, falling just below her trembling knees.

And while the time ticked away in his own little world, the phosphenes in Leo's visions start to piece themselves together, fitting into place like the perfect puzzle. The fuzzy shadow from before becomes her own, waving timidly from afar just like he did. (It was the natural thing to do.)

 _Pink,_ said the phosphenes. _Pink, pink, pink._

As he mutters a hello, he starts to realize it himself. Although there was no wobbly tree with petals that fell, the girl fit the image almost perfectly.

But like all his visions within the mighty phosphenes, her presence doesn't last at all. By the time he makes another effort to introduce himself properly, she was already gone, letting the wind follow in her footsteps.

The clouds return, and all felt well and normal again—except for Leo himself.

When time finally resumes, the boy couldn't help but touch his cheeks hesitantly—noticing that they felt increasingly warmer by the minute.

He knew it wasn't because of the heat.

Troubling thoughts buzzed in rhythm with the heavy throb of his heart, growing louder and louder with each breath he took.

Saturdays had never felt so awkward.

* * *

"Geez...what's taking her so _long?"_

Takumi held in his breath as he pulled out a long string of hair from a book he found in Iago's nasty little bookshelf, nearly flinging it across the room in disgust.

After hightailing from her end of the work with Ryouma, Takumi had a pretty good feeling that his mother had wanted nothing more than to have her children suffer with the task of treading through the dusty empire that was their new house all alone.

Dust, _more_ dust, and nothing _but_ dust filled every corner and crevice Takumi could find, putting his duster into full overdrive. He wiped up tables till they shone, swept the floors till the dust bunnies were no more, and propped up the cushions till they looked just right.

Cleaning was so _boring_. But it took his mind off having the constant urge to prove himself before the rest of his family. He didn't have to worry about Ryouma being better than him, or wonder if Sakura and Hinoka still considered him their brother.

He was only a burden waiting to be discovered—but as long as he could keep wiping away at the windows without a care in the world, it wouldn't have mattered to him either way.

"I swear, it's like _everyone's_ been getting slow lately..."

Hinoka took a short glance at him while fluffing one of the last few cushions still jammed inside one of her boxes, soon moving on to the zabuton that still needed to be set up.

The lower half of his eyes were rimmed with dark circles–a sign she knew well enough to know that Takumi hadn't been sleeping well. For the past week leading up to the move, they were popping up on more than one occasion. From the minute she saw him get up in the morning, there was nothing but exhaustion embedded into his face. He smiled less, and frowned more.

But of course, she couldn't say anything about it.

Takumi was a _stubborn_ kid—and stubborn kids liked to be picky with the things they dared to speak of. An older sister could only do so much for her siblings, and it always hurt her the hardest when she couldn't even approach her dear brother.

She wonders, if only for a moment, if he even _cares_ that she's there.

"It's not their fault, Takumi," she mumbled back after some time "...Yesterday wasn't _exactly_ the best time for sleeping..."

His mind flickered momentarily to the blurred memories on the plane—from his sleepless nights, to Sakura's own nightmare—carving a bitter grin on his face. "...I know..." His drew his eyes from the faint depression in the wall to his sister, and back again. His throat ached for more to say, but the words couldn't come so easily.

"...I guess I just thought it'd be like home."

It was all he can risk saying aloud—anything more, and he'd feel exposed. But it's enough words for the message to click in Hinoka's head. Little by little, she can feel herself start to understand.

Beneath the vague shadows cast by her brother, there stood the troubled thoughts of a boy who only felt like he was a bother to everyone around him.

"I see..."

Despite it being as painful as it was to think about, Hinoka settled with a kind smile in his direction, walking over to him quietly. "...I don't think you'll feel like that after a while, though." She placed a soft hand on his shoulders upon seeing a sliver of his confusion, lifting his chin ever so slightly. "Do you understand, Takumi?"

"Not exactly." He knits his eyebrows in furrows. "What do you mean?"

Her hands grip both his shoulders, keeping him steady on his train of thought. _"I_ think you'll like it here." She says, firm and strong. "All it takes is time, right?"

Even though she wished it were a hug in return, all Hinoka received was a simple nod of his head, getting back to work without so much as a " _Thank you."_

Though an anchor of worry sank deep in her chest, she was too bummed out over another supposed failure to notice the pleasant smile growing on her brother's face.

* * *

The end is near, and she knows it so.

There was no point in explaining why, as there was so little time to even fathom what she had seen. The birds had stopped their melodic chorus while she ran–the trees stopped rustling, and the wind hardly blew.

All she could hear was the heated thrum of her heart, and the fervent pounding in her ears. Her mind knew nothing but chaos, colliding with thought after thought.

Sakura tried her best to forget everything—and _really,_ everything—that happened between her and the strange boy she had met at the side of the house.

Amidst the soft gaze of the afternoon sun, she had found herself at a loss for words. The world around her had broken away, leaving only him and her at the center.

She remembered his smile, and his hesitant wave. The low utter of _"Hello,"_ and a self explanatory goodbye when she fled. He was _nervous_ , just like her.

She'd seen this kind of thing before.

 _Like one of those little romance stories!_ She could hear Hana say— and even if her friend wasn't there, her voice was in spirit. _You meet the man of your dreams, and get hitched after, right?_

She remembered shaking her head more than once that day, completely overcome with her usual embarrassment.

This only happened in the movies, and on TV. Not in real life.

 _Never_ in real life.

This was all a dream, and she only needed to scramble up the stairs again and fall into bed to wake up. (And, since pinching herself was _way_ too scary, it was automatically the best option.)

Her legs felt like two mounds of gelatin the minute she arrived at the sliding door, nearly jamming her fingers trying to undo the more than troublesome lock separating her from the rest of her siblings.

Upon hearing a sharp click, she feels the door finally give way, sending her on her knees.

Takumi and Hinoka whirl their heads around at the sound of a loud thud resounding near the patio, seeing Sakura hunched over in exhaustion. Their eyes grow wide with shock–and in a split second, their bodies moves all on their own.

 _"Sakura!"_

Hinoka scrambled for a handful of cushions and pillows, grabbing as many as she could. Takumi clamped his hands on her shoulders, bending down to take a good look at her face. It was clear enough to see she had been running—her face was pale, and she looked lightheaded and dizzy.

"Sakura! What happened?" He asks, shaking her gently. "Did something scare you?"

He listens hard for a response, receiving nothing in return. She simply looks up at him in a daze, whispering something only he could hear.

"...Alright..."

A glass of water was all she wanted, and it was a glass of water that she was sure to get. He stood up and narrowed his eyes at Hinoka when she came into view, lifting Sakura ever so gently to place a soft cushion beneath her.

There was still something off that didn't settle so well in his stomach. Something that gnawed at his skin and dared him to scream.

He didn't really _feel_ like screaming—but he definitely had something to say.

"Hinoka," He began, gesturing to the patio. "I thought you said there weren't any frogs on the side of the house."

Part of his quest to become Sakura's well deserved brother was making sure she was safe at all costs—but he wasn't so sure if this was one of those times, being that his eldest sister was now in the picture.

Hinoka meets his instigative glare with an equally agitated one. "There _weren't."_ She replied. "You could even ask Father, when he gets up."

 _A likely story,_ he wants to say—but he realized sooner than later that now was hardly the time to recite lines from cop shows. "You already know he doesn't wake up for another three decades. Don't try and blame it on him."

Hinoka's eyes widen in surprise—dumbfounded of the events that were unfolding before her. "Who's blaming who, Takumi? All I'm saying is that there weren't any frogs back there."

"Frogs can move, can't they? C'mon Hinoka, get serious here."

Her eyes grow thin. "I'm being completely serious. What I don't understand is why you're suddenly being so hostile over a frog."

 _Takumi is a stubborn kid. Takumi is a stubborn kid. Don't get mad. Don't get mad._

She repeated it over and over in her head, but the message couldn't click well this time. Her hands clammed up uncomfortably while her heart pulsated with rage.

He was _really_ blaming her. And she didn't know why.

"You obviously _lied_ to her, Hinoka." He laid his duster on the counter and sighed. "You knew they wouldn't stay in one place.

 _"Listen_ here, you—"

 _"Hey!"_ A loud smack on the floor startled the both of them. _"Stop_ it!"

Sakura's lips quivered while she held her stinging hand close to her chest, red in the face with annoyance. "I-It wasn't a frog...and nothing bad happened to me..." She whispered. "P-Please... _don't_ fight."

A wave of guilt washes over Takumi when he glanced at Hinoka again, seeing that her eyes were far from meeting his. A sign he knew that she was more than angry. (Another wonderful rule of the " _1001 Things A Younger Brother Had To Accept.")_

Instead, all her attention becomes focused on Sakura, and Sakura alone. "...We're sorry. It won't happen again, okay?"

She goes for a hug and stands frozen in time, burying her face over her little sister's shoulder. Sakura nodded her head slowly, curling her lips into a soft smile.

Not even a thousand needles buried in his chest could fathom the pain of seeing her frown in his direction.

* * *

"...And my brother, Leo...oh, he's a _darling_ , that one! He's so kind, and _unbelievably_ intelligent! _Just_ like Elise here!"

Elise nodded her head as if on cue the whole time, smiling wide with a cutesy grin. "Yeah! I got an A in science to prove it!"

Mikoto fanned her face at the younger girl, smitten by her childish charm. "How lovely! Your family sounds _wonderful_ , Camilla!"

The girl smirked, casually twisting her hair. Her script was working perfectly, just as she had hoped for. For the last twenty minutes, she had been hitting it off swell with Mikoto from the minute her cookies had entered her home. Elise was ecstatic when the woman had taken her vase of flowers, beaming like a child discovering a hoard of presents on Christmas Day.

Introductions went off without a hitch, continuing to build up with compliment after compliment until Camilla herself was satisfied with the result.

"Aw, I wouldn't say _that_ , ma'am. Though, you _could_ say I'm like their mother...I practically raised them myself with our father!"

Her gaze unknowingly falls upon Ryouma, catching the man off guard while he ruffled a hand through his hair. He averts his hesitant eyes towards the outlook of trees blowing along with the wind.

There's something strange that flutters about in her chest whenever she stares at him too long—aside from the rather stylish sleeping mask that she wished was hers.

"Truly? My, that's _impressive_..."

Elise nodded her head again, hugging her elder sister by the thigh. "Camilla's the _best_ big sister ever, ma'am! She always makes the _best_ cookies! And _cakes!"_

A faint, unexpected blush creeps up her face, much to Ryouma's amusement. "Aw, Elise..." She patted down on the thick tufts of her hair, watching her squirm under the praise. "You're too cute."

Footsteps leading up to the porch signal the arrival of a new neighbor, grabbing the attention of Mikoto, Ryouma, and the two sisters combined.

"Ah! Here he is." Camilla smiled as she held out her arm in his direction, adjusting the hem of his shirt. "Our brother, _Leo!"_

Elise clapped repeatedly as Leo made the short lived journey from one end of the porch to the other, suddenly mindful that he was in the presence of guests.

Leo went into a small panic on the inside upon meeting the hopeful gazes of both Mikoto and Ryouma, feeling the wad of confidence lodged in his throat disintegrate in his stomach. While both pairs of eyes looked at him up and down, he could feel his face pale by the second.

 _"H-Hello..."_

The first phase of his plan had been obliterated without a second thought.

Mikoto beamed at him with her usual kindness, waving politely in the boy's direction. "Hello! I assume you're the _adorable_ little brother Camilla's been telling me about?"

He sneaks a quick glare towards his sister while hiding his embarrassment, nodding slowly. "Y-Yes...I'm, uh, _glad_ to make your acquaintance, milady."

Ignoring the obvious snort coming from Elise—because _really_ , who called _anyone_ milady these days—Leo smiled awkwardly and quickly bowed his head, feeling his cheeks burn bright.

His emotions from his encounter with the girl on the side of the house were still running wild, causing his words to fumble around on his tongue. Nonetheless, Mikoto's radiance was something that never ran out, even in the face of involuntary embarrassment. Her smile was even wider than before.

"I'm pleased to make yours too, Leo! You're _so_ well mannered..." She laughed, holding her hands to her chest. "I can tell you have a _very_ good family looking after you."

He lets out a nervous laugh, feeling the expectant stares of his sisters drill holes in his back.

 _Say something cool about us, Leo~!_

"You couldn't be _any_ more accurate with that," he replied, feeling himself cringe behind the generic smile plastered on his face. "They're the greatest sisters I could ever ask for."

 _Was that alright?_ He hears himself say.

Camilla rests a hand on his shoulder, clearly pleased—even if he did sound like a complete robot.

 _Perfection._

"Aw, how _sweet!_ Don't you think so, Ryouma?"

The elder boy stiffened with surprise, realizing he had spaced out a short moment ago. He nodded his head accordingly, meeting Camilla's mesmerizing smirk.

The image remained permanent in his mind.

"Hmph...I wish I could stay out here and talk with you all more...but there are still a _ton_ of things to unpack in the house..." For the first time in forever, Mikoto's doting smile became a small frown. "Ryouma and I should be getting back inside, before the others get rowdy."

Ryouma seemed to agree with her, as his eyes glanced at the door ever so often while his mother was chattering away with Camilla.

But she wasn't exactly through with her visit yet— _that_ much was certain.

"Why don't you let _us_ assist you, ma'am? We'd be more than happy to help you unpack!"

Leo felt his insides twist as Elise agreed with her, jumping up and down with excitement.

"Oh, me too, _me too!"_ She cried. "I wanna help too, Camilla!"

Mikoto gasped, holding a hand over her mouth. She looked towards Ryouma, who simply shrugged right back. He figured he didn't have much of a say in the matter, with the exception of his father. (Who, at the moment, was _still_ sleeping. Ryouma made a note to wake him up after going back inside.)

"I don't mind," he replied, moving his eyes away from Camilla at last. "It's your choice, Mother."

She had just met these people, and they were already being so nice. Neighbors like that were hard to come by.

"Would you really?" She asked, still unsure. "I mean, if it's not _too_ much trouble..."

"Of course! We'll help in any way we can."

Noon hits the edge of dawn as the remainder of the day unfolds—and while Garon's children busied themselves with the affairs of new neighbors, the man was preparing himself for a new episode of _The Shepherds._

He called for Keaton, who raced straight into the living room after consuming a good portion of dog chow, falling prey in his lap thanks to belly rubs and scratches behind the ear.

He turned on the TV when he found the remote, wondering how long he would last before falling asleep in the first five minutes.

 _This episode better be good..._

* * *

 **Thank you all _so_ much for 2,000+ views so early on. You're all amazing~!**

 **I've decided to set the update times to whenever I get a chapter finished—since most of the time, I'm finished by the time Monday rolls by. I thank you for taking the time to read them, though! (** **Also, a small shout out to Andrew F, for giving me that little warning beforehand. I _realllly_ appreciate the heads up.)**

 **Guys, posting anyone's work—on _any_ site—without their permission and telling others to _"bully"_ their story is hardly okay.**

 **Writing is _already_ a difficult field as it is. Sending hateful messages and spam to try and discourage them from doing the things they love is unacceptable.**

 **If any writer you know is experiencing spammers, or getting unnecessary hate, please do not hesitate to drive them out with your own input. I'm sure the writer themselves would really appreciate it you helping them out!**

 **Or, if it's even _you_ that's being targeted, don't be afraid to do what you believe can solve the problem (aka, _delete those reviews_ ). Who cares what they say? What's important is that you should move forward, and keep on writing.**

 **With that said, I hope this doesn't spiral into a huge problem. It's really nonsensical, and needs to end.**

 **Take care!**


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

Silence fills the open gaps in the night sky while the crickets can barely be heard—the soft patter of rain falls just right on the decaying leaves of century old trees, and according to him, it was the perfect opportunity to run away.

Or something like that.

A voice, so low and quiet, whispers faintly in the ears of another, holding them close by their side.

 _"...I guess we could make this work...couldn't we, Chrom?"_

The rainy night covers the scenery of what looked to be a forest—the pale golden glow of the moon taking up a good portion of both their faces, blinding them from the love entwined within them both. A chorus of strings and quiet woodwinds become the center of it all, playing only whenever Chrom and Sumia were alone.

 _N-Not_ like it was _foreshadow_ or anything! Just something to set the mood.

Or something to that extent—Garon wasn't so sure at this point.

After leaving off at an awkward silence that lasts about ten minutes, Chrom stares down at his beloved with glossy blue eyes, looking as if he'd gone out drinking for hours. But since the focus on the camera makes him seem like a god—with all the unnecessary sparkles and whatnot—Garon proceeds to see him as such. For _now._

He can't help but feel a tinge of jealously whenever Sumia magically giggled out of nowhere whenever Chrom made a weird expression—as if love looked so easy, and hardly a challenge.

 _"...Yes, but...not here. Not now."_

Sumia seems to swoon in his arms, letting the violin in the background enhance the bittersweet moment.

 _"But, Chrom!"_ She cries, clinging desperately to his loose shirt. Had she pulled anymore, it could've ripped apart. _"I don't understand...at this rate, everyone will know..."_

Chrom rests a hand on top of Sumia's, pressing chapped lips against her palm. The warmth was fleeting, and time was of the essence. If they didn't hurry now, the end was sure to come.

 _"They won't have to know, my love..."_ He whispered huskily, letting his sultry breath tickle the top her ears—even though it smelled like bear meat. _"...Not for long..."_

He closed his eyes dramatically and stole a quick kiss to her temple, making her swoon again.

" _Oh, Chrom...does this mean..."_

 _"...That's right. I'm going to make you my queen, Sumia. You're going to have both my kids, and we'll live happily ever after."_

Sumia grinned. _"Oh gosh, I'm so excited! But...why two kids? One's not enough?"_

Chrom let out a mechanical laugh, patting Sumia on the head as if she were a mere child. _"Oh, Sumia, you wonderful girl. One is never enough."_

 _"Oh, of course..."_

Garon rolled his eyes with a face of disgust, running his hands through Keaton's soft coat of fur while hoping that the worst had already come to pass. "...How underwhelming."

Keaton whined under his breath when Chrom practically dragged Sumia across the screen on the TV, continuing to traverse through the secluded forest that kept them on their toes. Garon pursed his lips at the young dog, sipping a glass of water. "Oh, come now, Keaton. They've been hinting at this since the beginning of the series..."

He let out a hoarse laugh as he continued to ruffle his fur, ignoring the feeling of Keaton's teeth biting down on his fingers. The pain hadn't bothered him one bit.

From afar in the corner of the screen, the shadow of another woman appeared before Chrom and Sumia. Garon raised a curious brow when a bright pink umbrella stabs itself into the ground, startling both him and the two lovers on the run.

Keaton's tail froze in mid wag, nearly slipping off the old man's lap.

"What's this?" He asked no one in particular. "Is that..."

Chrom finishes Garon's short-lived sentence, pale in the face with shock.

The background music within takes a sharp turn into a dramatic crescendo of violins, matching the dreary outlook of the rain, and the unsettled anger rising within the woman standing before them.

 _"Maribelle..."_

The blonde woman makes a face that reminded Garon of his own first wife, glaring daggers toward Sumia while her hands were laced around Chrom's. _"I can't believe this..."_ She snarls, pointing a well manicured finger in Chrom's direction. _"After everything I've done for you!"_

Chrom gasped aloud while Sumia hid behind him in fear, looking at her with frightened eyes.

 _"Maribelle, it's not what you think!"_

Garon sneered to himself with excitement, while Keaton hid his face behind his paws. "Finally, some drama."

Maribelle shook her head indefinitely, shooing away the other girl with the butt of her umbrella. While she flipped her jubilant curls over her shoulders, the camera makes no hesitation in zooming in on her rather elegant choice of clothing. (To please the sponsors who made them, of course.)

 _"Not what I think?"_ She growled, stabbing the ground with her heel. _"It's exactly what I think! How dare you!"_

Chrom stiffens awkwardly between the two women, holding his arms out to shield his fiancé. There was no turning back. " _Stop this, Maribelle."_ He says, shaking his head. _"You know there was nothing else I could do!"_

 _"Nonsense!"_ She shouted again, fuming with rage. _"I gave you all the advice I could...all the love I could show..."_

Garon groaned. "Don't you _dare_ start crying..."

 _"And yet..."_ Her lips quiver with anger, but her voice remains firm. _"You, the crown prince of the Halidom of Ylisse, can't even afford to give your own fiancé a proper proposal!"_

The camera shifts back to the two lovers, gaping with shock. Meanwhile, on the couch, Garon clapped for the noblewoman, thoroughly impressed. "It's about time someone says it..."

Sumia gasps, holding both hands to her chest. The camera zooms in on her face uncomfortably.

 _"Maribelle! You insufferable brute!"_ She cried, glowering at the other. _"Money doesn't matter to me at all in this relationship! Even if the ring was made out of dried pie crust..."_

Chrom then pressed a hand to _his_ chest, clearly offended. _"That pie crust was cast in pure gold, Sumia! How dare you insult the handiwork of the finest blacksmiths in the land?"_

The woman blinked back sudden tears, wiping at her cheeks to hide the stinging in her eyes.

 _"...Chrom..."_

Sumia's face blurs away to darkness, as the first round of commercials make their way upon the screen.

* * *

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 ** _It features thousands of episodes from all your favorites—such as The Holy Greil, Corrin in the House, The Shepherds, and many more!_**

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* * *

Rubbing his temples for some sort of comfort after suffering through twenty minutes of cringe, Garon sank further into the couch to ease the pain in his back. Keaton looked up from his slobbering spree on the old man's shirt to look up at him again, beady black eyes glowing under the dim lighting in the house.

"You know, Keaton...I always thought they were fighting in a war here..." Disgust plagued his face yet again. "Is this what Camilla _really_ looks forward to?"

Keaton barked once, jerking his head up and down.

"Ridiculous..."

Though he had some doubts over his daughter's questionable taste in decent television, Garon couldn't help but be intrigued by the nonsensical plot line of _The Shepherds._

It was part of a long string of soap operas that Camilla had started watching two summers ago, and she'd practically begged him to watch at least one with her. It was probably a huge mistake in the long run, but he didn't want to necessarily disappoint her.

* * *

 ** _You are the ocean's gray waves..._**

* * *

Hoards of screaming women and men blared on the TV, startling both Garon and Keaton from their conversation. He's seen this commercial air before, even though it was only once.

A young woman dressed in white and gold walked across the stage with a slender hand placed upon her chest, letting the lights of the theater caress her every step with grace.

* * *

 _ **The hottest singing sensation since Olivia Ferrera and Arete Lazuli is finally back!**_

 _ **Come see the beautiful Azura Lazuli LIVE in concert!**_

 _ **Witness the power in her hit song, Lost In Thoughts All Alone, as she woos the hearts of millions!**_ _ **Tickets are on sale now at the Straz Center!**_

 _ **See you then!**_

* * *

"Elise would probably be into that...wouldn't she, Keaton?"

The dog shrugged his shoulders, slightly unsure. _Maybe,_ he wanted to say.

A little later, _The Shepherds_ came back after a couple more commercials (the normal cranberry commercial featuring a farmer with a pot on his head was the most entertaining), switching off from the previous scene to the battlefield—Garon's _favorite_ part.

The people he'd come to remember as Robin, Vaike, Miriel, and Stahl, were all positioned in a complete circle, looking over the mass of rotting monsters that spewed hot black liquid from their mouths.

Why they were wasting their time with a battle in the _rain_ , Garon would never know. Robin stepped up in all his heavenly glory, taking out his tome to flip through all his supposedly foolproof battle strategies.

 _"Okay...Stahl, Frederick, you take the...er...left?"_

Vaike stared at him with a lopsided grin, nearly bursting with laughter. _"Robin, Frederick's not here."_

 _"What?"_ The albino shut his book and looked up, eyebrows crossed in frustration. _"Damn, we're screwed."_

Miriel shakes her head, pushing up her glasses on the bridge of her nose. (She did that a lot, but no one ever complained). _"Not exactly, Robin. Counting me in, we have a solid eighty percent chance of winning the battle today."_

 _"Really?"_

She smiled, but only a little. _"Yes. That is, if I had anything to use in battle. You were in such a careless rush to get this over with, you forgot to buy me a new tome."_

Robin's grin had completely vanished at that point, replaced with an expression of full panic. _"But I thought the last one I bought you would be enough!"_

 _"That's what you said yesterday. It is today now."_

Keaton hopped off Garon's lap to fetch his chew toy, leaving the elder man to ponder upon the utter failure that was Ylisse's famous tactician.

* * *

If Takumi hadn't become experienced in predicting the outcomes of all the chick flicks he'd watch when just about everyone else in the house was asleep, he wouldn't have been able to guess that there was something very off about Sakura when Ryouma and their mother returned.

 _Correction_. When Ryouma and their mother returned with three completely _random strangers_ that invaded his house unannounced.

"Wow, Iago's house doesn't look so bad on the inside," one of them drawled, flipping thick lavender curls out of her face. "Aside from all the dust, of course." She was fairly tall, and towered over the two people inching beside her like two lost pups.

"The ceiling's _huge!"_ The other girl shouted, holding her hands to her cheeks. "It's so cool!"

Mikoto smiled while gazing upward, sighing to herself. "Isn't it? I don't even know _how_ to decorate a place this big..."

Camilla smirked while twirling a single strand of her hair, nodding. "We can certainly help you out, when the time comes."

Mikoto thanked her for her usual kindness, before cupping her hands in a circle over her mouth. "Takumi, Sakura! Hinoka!" She called, looking around. "Come out here for a second!"

Hinoka and Sakura shoot up from the floor at the sound of their mother, leaving their brother to pick up the slack and follow along. Although they could clearly see their mother from afar in the living room, she probably wanted them closer to her. When glancing over at his little sister, Takumi could see that her cheeks had darkened ever so subtly, looking straight towards a boy with soft, blonde hair, and deep brown eyes.

A suspicious looking kid, walking by his elder sister's side while she fawned over Mikoto.

Or, in other words, strike _one_.

Ryouma excused himself to go upstairs and wake up his slumbering father, catching the ever observant eyes of Camilla. Takumi raised a brow at the two—somewhat aware that something had happened while he was been trapped inside the dusty palace of the house.

He hadn't seen his brother look so flustered ever since...

Well, _ever_.

"Ah, so you _do_ have siblings!" Camilla gushed, throwing her hands on her hips. "How cute is that, Elise?"

The girl beside her nodded her head eagerly, clapping her hands together. "It's _super cute!"_

Takumi winced at the squeak in her voice, rubbing his ever sensitive ears. He'd never heard anyone talk so _loud_ , especially when it was only a casual reply.

 _Nothing like Sakura,_ he thought. Sakura was quiet, mature, and mindful of her surroundings. This kid was just _loud_ all around. A perfect reason to make it strike _two_.

Before greeting her mother with a stationary grin, Hinoka sent a quick, fleeting glance towards both Takumi and Sakura.

 _Be polite,_ her eyes seemed to say. _And don't be rude._

Sakura still found herself completely spaced out when Camilla's presence completely towered over her's, too shaken up to even utter a hello. Hinoka stood behind her, holding her steady just in case.

"Hey, you look like you're around my sister's age..." Camilla quipped, shaking her hand. "I'm Camilla, and it's a pleasure to meet a little cutie like you."

Sakura laughed nervously, returning the gesture with a terrified smile. "T-Thank you.. _.u-um..." Hinoka, please help me._

As if sensing her cry for help, Hinoka rested her hands on Sakura's shoulders and spoke aloud for her. "Her name's Sakura," she said, "And I'm Hinoka. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

Both girls bowed their heads respectively, wowing both Camilla and Elise with ease.

"Your children are all beautiful darlings, ma'am."

Mikoto chuckled to herself with dapping her forehead with another cloth from the bathroom. "Oh, Camilla, you're too kind!" Though she was smiling, she couldn't help but sigh afterward.

Takumi caught the split second change in her expression before it was too late, suddenly feeling bad for a reason he didn't know.

But he _did_ know that someone was coming up from behind him—a timid presence, much like his sister's.

"Er, excuse me..."

The boy Sakura had barely taken her eyes off of makes a hesitant advance towards him, holding out an outstretched hand that was trembling for no apparent reason at all.

 _Well, speak of the devil._

"I'm Leo," he muttered, barely audible. "It's...nice to meet you today."

Despite being thrown off with his choice of wording, Takumi dismissed it solely for the sake of time, shaking his hand back without a second thought.

"Takumi," he replied. "But I'm guessing you've already met some of us, right?"

He could see his eyes grow uncomfortably narrow. "Not that I'm aware of. Perhaps from afar."

 _A likely story._ "You sure?

"Positive."

Takumi hadn't realized that he was still shaking his hand, letting go as soon as he was satisfied enough with his response.

"Takumi..."

He notices Sakura come up to him from behind at the sound of her voice—still physically nervous from her meeting with Camilla. Up close, her cheeks looked like the color of blooming cherry blossoms, staring at Leo with an awkward gleam in her eyes.

He mentally cringed to himself as they continued to stare at each other, smiling nervously _right_ in front of him. Sensing the awkwardness, Takumi decided to spare his poor sister of his presence and started walking along to join Hinoka at the table.

Strike three _all_ the way.

Something was definitely up with those two. They had met before, whether Sakura denied it or not. And in that time, something had happened—something that caused her to be completely rendered to a nervous wreck of a blushing schoolgirl.

And as Sakura's brother, he was prepared to find out exactly what it was.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. (I had too much fun writing it.)** **Thank you all for your support from my last author's note—I really appreciate it :)**

 **Take care!**


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

Outside, the heat of the summer's second day washes over the final remnants of spring—the morning birds were long gone, replaced by the sounds of the occasional moving car and the small brigades of children riding on their bicycles, screaming their little hearts out as they raced.

It was a much different setting than what he was used to in Japan–with the soft winds carrying the light of day, and the faint gleam of the sun, accompanied with the scattering of petals from Sakura's favorite tree. Ryouma remembered well of the way he'd spend the afternoons painting with his friend—a reserved girl going by the name of Kagerou.

Back when he was in high school, she was one of his many friends—usually quiet, hidden from the others. Together, they painted each other's self portraits under the summer sun, laughing whenever one of them moved too soon, or messed up halfway through. Takumi, still a little grade schooler, would often join them, watching from afar. (It was pretty funny to see him look all flustered afterward.)

He remembered the way her skin glowed in every painting—looking sun-kissed and golden. No paint of his could ever match, and he'd normally settle with something simple.

Ryouma never imagined thinking about such a thing so late into the move–with their goodbyes said more times than once. Perhaps it was the way Hinoka looked at him as Mikoto dismissed him to go upstairs, as if passing on a message that needed dire attention.

 _Something's wrong with Takumi. You should ask him later._

(Takumi and Sakura were pretty much _convinced_ that she knew telepathy.)

Ryouma's memories of Kagerou, so cherished by his thoughts, sank back into the depths of his heart—while reality happily charged its way through. He quietly slipped into his father's quarters on his own volition, walking up a long flight of rickety old stairs to the second floor.

The second floor was just as barren and empty as the first, save for the leftover furniture and mounds of dust. His first night sleeping in his room proved to be more of a challenge than he had thought. There were about five cobwebs that hung in thin tatters in all the corners of his room—and he could've _sworn_ he saw at least three spiders waltzing across the walls.

Thankfully, however, he could tell that Sumeragi's room wasn't like that at all. It was neatly kept and generally clean, aside from the gritty, faded paint that cracked along the surface.

He found himself at a loss for words upon realizing that the blinds in the room were nearly sealed shut. The only light that came through were the thin, golden flecks of the afternoon sun, creating sharp lines that jutted out against the wall. Even the rumpled mass of blankets and sheets that was Sumeragi's bed held no one under, or around. It was as bare as the stagnant air that filtered into his lungs.

Instead, a door leading into the bathroom was left ajar, while a massive shadow stood bending over the sink. The lights were still on, accenting the silhouette of wild, thorny hair that drenched the figure's backside.

"Father? Can you hear me?" Ryouma cut a corner into the bathroom, peeking his head into the mirror for confirmation.

Sumeragi's eyes flick to his son's presence, earning a mumbled grunt in response. _"Wah ish it, Rohmah?"_ He gurgles, mouth dribbling with toothpaste. It trickled down from his mouth onto the surface of his beard.

"Oh, it's nothing," The younger man replied, slightly grossed out by the sight. "Mother was just wondering if you were still asleep."

Sumeragi raised a brow before bending down to spit out the toothpaste, rinsing out his mouth to reach for a cloth. "I've been up for a while..." He murmured. "But I didn't feel right, for some reason."

His eyes are heavy with sleep, still dreading even the act of blinking. The way his eyebrows creased sent immediate flags in his head:

 _Father's grumpy._

It was a facial expression that reminded Ryouma much of his younger brother's—save for the obvious contrast in their hair color. "How are you feeling now?" He asked, lifting up his shirt from the clutches of the zipper on his pants.

"...I'm alright." His eyes cut back to the mirror. "However, I'm a bit lost on something..."

"What is it?"

Sumeragi paused, letting the suspense hang in the air for a little moment longer. "When exactly did we start getting guests?"

Ryouma raised a brow before giving him a lopsided grin, shrugging his shoulders. "They came by earlier _originally_ to bring a welcoming gift...but then she volunteered to help us unpack."

"Hmph..." Sumeragi narrowed his eyes at his son, fundamentally skeptical. "Who's the _she_ , Ryouma?"

"Hm?" His cheeks tinted at the realization of what he had said. _"O-Oh,_ well, one of our neighbors happened to be a girl...and she was the one who offered."

Ryouma couldn't help but wonder how hard his father was judging him behind his stare. He could always see right through him. "I see..." He says, setting the cloth down. "Well, let your mother know that I'll be down soon. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

Ryouma bowed shortly before raising his head up again, making Sumeragi's request understood. He made a beeline for the door, before being stopped again suddenly.

"...Wait a minute, Ryouma..."

The boy turned around on the back on his heel, letting his hair swivel back along his shoulders.

"Yes, Father?"

He watched carefully as Sumeragi slipped off the sleeping mask still trapped in the thorns of his hair. Holding it by his index finger and thumb, he shot a playful smirk in his direction.

"I hope you haven't been wearing this _all_ morning."

Feigning nonchalance behind a curtain of shameful embarrassment, Ryouma nodded his head, ignoring the pinkish tint that outlined his cheeks.

"Of _course_ I haven't." He responded–slow at first. "That's...ridiculous."

* * *

Watching Takumi walk away to retreat to his cleaning duties was only the first stage for Leo to regain his self-esteem back. It had been lost for quite some time, ever since he arrived on the porch steps of Mikoto's house.

In the midst of constant stammering and bad English, he found his way face to face with the girl he'd seen by the side of the house.

The _pink_ girl that the phosphenes kept bugging him about.

If Niles and Odin were here, they would've surely been crying on the floor over how extremely awkward he was being right now. His hands were sweaty, and his legs were trembling. Leo never remembered feeling so nervous ever since Garon made him tag along to a family reunion that nearly made him pee his pants. (But that was a story for another time.)

She was looking back at him, almost expectant on hearing him speak. The tips of her ears were red, covered slightly by her hair.

 _Say something. Anything._

"Hello..." He greeted, extending his hand towards her. "... _Again."_

Her face starts to relax when his lips curled into another one of his goofy―or in Elise's words, _nerdy_ ―smiles, hesitantly taking his hand in return. _"Hi..."_

Leo marveled at how amazingly soft her hands were―it was as if he was squeezing a pillow cushion fresh out of the package. (Even the women on the soap commercials would be jealous.)

"I-I'm Sakura," she chirps on a whim, suddenly finding that her confidence had surged. "It's a pleasure to meet you again... _um_..."

Her voice trailed off slowly, until Leo eventually got the hint.

 _"L-Leo_...its Leo."

He could see her eyes widen in astonishment. _"Oh!_ That's a nice name! It suits you..."

Leo's chest burst with butterflies as her smile only widened. Letting go of her hand―because holding onto it any longer would've looked _pretty_ suspicious to her brother―he held it behind his back and bowed slightly.

"Thank you, Sakura," he replied. "And...I apologize about scaring you earlier."

She looked at him thoughtfully with an inquisitive stare, realizing what he had meant after a few moments of hesitation.

Her words come out in short, embarrassed sputters, casting her cheeks a blooming pink. "O-Oh, no, that's okay! It wasn't your fault! It's just a habit of mine to be _really_..."

The word was only on the tip of his tongue. "...Nervous? Like you can't even move?"

Her eyes light up at his interjection. _"Y-Yeah!_ A-And then your words get all mixed up, and you can't even speak..."

If he was in the movies, Leo would've already grabbed her hands again, intent on only sharing the warmth they held inside.

But this wasn't the movies-and his hands were too sweaty anyway. "Yeah, I get that too." He added. "Sometimes, I wish I could go back in time and start over."

"Same here! I kinda thought I was the only one who felt like that, to be honest..."

"...Me too."

Sakura chuckled softly, hiding her generous smile behind a delicate hand. She was so _beautiful_. And he had made her smile— _laugh_ , even. It sounded like a thousand bells had begun ringing in a single, monotonous melody, powerful enough to make the flowers grow.

He was feeling pretty good about himself at that point—the _"I'm actually doing something right"_ , kind of good—until he started feeling a strange glob of moisture gathering at his pants leg.

Leo looked down hesitantly, thinking it was just his nerves again, before reeling back with horror at the small ball of orange fur making itself comfortable around his ankle. It was so comfortable, that he decided it was a perfect place to get this morning's breakfast out of his system.

"U-Um..."

Sakura confusedly followed his terrified expression towards the floor, paling once her eyes met the devious fox purring without a care in the world.

"A-Ah! _Nishiki!"_ Sakura swiped him up from the small puddle of pee, softly yanking at his ears—she was aiming to punish him, but her conscious wouldn't allow it—until he yelped in pain. "Bad boy!"

Her eyes darted back to his in an instant, nearly close to crying. "I-I'm _so_ sorry, Leo! I didn't know he was there at all..."

"It's fine! It's fine..." He replied hastily, rolling up his pants despite it feeling disgusting. "I'm _sure_ he didn't mean to..."

Nishiki stared up at Leo, looking as if he were almost smirking.

Oh, he _totally_ meant to.

"I guess so...but he usually doesn't act like this at all!" Sakura shook her head, angrily puffing out her cheeks. "I-I'll be back! Just wait here, okay?"

Before he could protest, the girl was already gone, retreating up the stairs with Nishiki purring in her arms. At that moment, he felt like he was back in preschool—waiting for the teacher to attend to him after a sprinkler had gone off and soaked him when he least expected it. Once cleaned up, he walked around in saggy overalls for the rest of the day.

But he doubted that a bunch of people that he just met would have any spare clothes to give him.

Takumi watched with a smirk similar to Nishiki's, snickering to himself in the background. Hinoka shot him a pointed glare to be quiet. "Are you alright, Leo?" She called, signaling a pitying gaze in return.

Leo nodded his head slowly, balling his fists up in shame. "Y-Yes...I'm fine..."

At this point, even Belka would've been laughing.

Elise's face grew into a wistful, mischievous smirk when Leo's pained expression came into view, causing a small snicker to rise from her lips. She was holding onto a small table leg she was holding onto for Hinoka, who was hard at work repairing a loose screw in the zabuton. She was _so_ going to tell her father about this later.

"Dad's probably gonna laugh...or hold it in..."

Hinoka noticed the obvious grin growing on her face, despite knowing it wasn't right to make light of it. Regardless, making conversation wasn't always a bad thing—especially if they started because of another one of Nishiki's little _"accidents"._

"Say...what're your parents like, Elise?"

"My parents?" The young girl's eyes spark up like fireflies, exhilarated that a girl like Hinoka asked her such a question. "My dad is _super_ cool!" She quipped. "He _always_ braids my hair in the morning before school, and lets me tuck him in at night! He's really funny, too!"

A light giggle escapes her lips. "That sounds nice!"

"Uh-huh! And my mama's like that too! She doesn't visit as often as my aunties do, but that's because she's too busy with work and stuff. But, do you know who's the best aunt ever? Auntie Marzi! Or Marzia, but I don't pronounce it with the _a_. She _always_ sends me and the others clothes and stuff from her collection!"

 _Oh my, she's a rambler._ "Is she a designer or something?"

Elise gave her a thumbs up, grinning from ear to ear. "The best one there is! She kinda looks like..." A short pause stops the conversation. "...Oh, _duh!_ She looks _just_ like Camilla! And then there's Auntie Sabine—that's _Leo's_ mom, and she writes a lot of books!"

Hinoka wasn't so sure if she was allowed to hear such personal things so early on, but the little ray of sunshine that was Elise would simply not stop. She rambled on and on until the elder girl had to stop her herself.

"That's _really_ wonderful, Elise—but maybe you should save all that for another time?" She rested a hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't want you to give away too much of your personal life."

"Hm?" She laid the table leg down in front of her. "It's okay, Hinoka! We're friends anyways, so I don't mind it."

Her chest fluttered with a strange sensation that burned in the back of her throat. This girl was _too_ adorable. "Well, alright. Since I've already asked about you, why don't you ask something of me?"

She could practically feel the excitement brimming in Elise's face. "Hm...do your siblings give you nicknames?"

The girl pursed her lips at the question, assessing the positions of the cushions on the ground with a careful eye. She wasn't so sure how to answer at first, until she stumbled upon a memory that only felt like a short lived dream. "...Sakura and Takumi used to call me _Hina_ when they were younger," She replied. "They couldn't pronounce it correctly back then...so I told them an easier way to say it."

She could sense Takumi's sudden scoff of denial from a mile away.

"Wow, that's _so_ cool! Did _you_ know that when _I_ was younger, Dad used to call me _ma_ _cherie?_ He said it was something _his_ mama used to call him in French!"

Hinoka raised a brow. How many places was her family from? "Do you think you could teach me some French sometime?"

She didn't need a verbal reply to know that the answer was yes.

* * *

"Hm...I was thinking about putting these curtains up like this."

Camilla watched intently while the older woman perched herself on top of a low stool and draped a set of transparent red curtains next to a window belonging to the guest room. "...Try angling it _this_ way, ma'am. That way, you'll still have some light to filter through."

"Ah..." Mikoto bit her lips, nodding her head in agreement. She made mental notes in her head as she and the younger girl went along in the house, carrying layers of curtains and blankets with her. "You have such a _knack_ for design, Camilla! Where'd you get it from?"

The girl smiled playfully while running her fingers through her hair. Another round of impressing Mikoto was underway. (It was _so_ easy!)

"Well, my mother just so happens to be a fashion designer from Italy...so I guess it just runs in the family." Though it could've sounded like a lie in someone else's perspective, Camilla hadn't been any farther from the truth.

Mikoto was more than impressed, as usual. _"Italy?_ Wow..." There was a soft buzzing sound in one of Mikoto's pants pockets, startling her from saying anything else. Shoving her hand for the source, she eventually pulled out a small flip phone that was about the size of her hand–which wasn't too big, nor too small, either.

"Ah, excuse me for a moment, Camilla. I'm getting a call..."

Mikoto disappeared down the hall for just a few moments. There was still enough sound for Camilla to be able to hear, even with the door closed.

 _Oh, accidental eavesdropping._ She thought to herself. _I_ do _love those..._

Listening in, she could hear Mikoto begin to speak in fast Japanese—a bummer considering Camilla didn't know a lick of it. From the words she could understand, however—besides _"Hello"_ , she got a few names from out of the blue.

 _Kamui._ Whoever that was.

She did remember seeing such a name on the opening credits of one of her favorite shows, but she doubted it was the same person.

"Weird..."


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

 _"Mhm. After I finish up this week's episode, I'm going on break for a bit."_

He paused to wait for his mother to respond, smiling upon hearing her approval.

It was nice to hear her voice again after spending so much time in the Americas—things were getting lonely lately, and there was hardly any family for him to turn to whenever he wanted.

The world was simply _too_ complex for a man like him.

Kamui Naya was a simple human being, growing up in the rural ends of Japan while aspiring to become big in the Americas.

His mother, Mikoto, and father, Anankos, introduced him to the art of theater at the young age of five—back when he only understood so little about the world. Instead of learning through books, he discovered it through play after play—when Romeo savored the fleeting hand of Juliet, and Peter Pan whisked Wendy away to a faraway land trapped in the stars.

As he grew older, he became more engrossed in his dream—to perform for the world, and be swept up by the lights of fame and fortune. His platform was the stage, while his mother stood as the pillar that kept him in balance. His sister, Lilith, would join him in the backyard on hazy summer days, playing whatever part he wanted her to do. Though it all changed when their parents separated—the reason still unknown—Kamui knew she would've wanted him to keep on going in her stead.

He, along with his remarried mother, became part of the Tokugawa family, right around the beginning of his years in junior high—his memories as a Naya depleting with every passing moment spent in the quiet parts of the bustling Hyōgo prefecture. He had three new siblings, as well as a new father—but unfortunately, they didn't talk as much.

Nonetheless, he continued to pursue his dream, even though it was still so far away.

After suffering through countless auditions that more or less failed, disgusted faces, and unimpressed directors, Kamui finally seized his chance at stardom in the heart of Washington, D.C. He adopted the role of Corrin Massey, the daughter of a renowned chef who landed a job at the White House. She was a snarky and funny girl, planning master plots that were sure to go wrong, and awe the hearts of millions.

Originally, the producers wanted Corrin to be _male_ —but a last minute change had opted out the option.

Kamui had already auditioned for it—and got the part too—by the time it all happened, but instead of dropping the role for another short-lived fantasy on the red carpet, he decided to gamble on the chance to play a female role.

As his mother kept taking, Jakob anxiously pursed his lips, assessing the tightened schedule on his nearly broken clipboard.

"Kamui, _please_ don't take too long. We have to film the next scene in five minutes."

 _"Hold on a minute, Mom."_ He saw him look up from his phone, nodding automatically. "I won't, Jakob! I promise!" He slipped back into his native tongue soon after, confusing the other man yet again. _"Sorry about that, Jakob asked me a question. Anyway, do you think I could come over sometime?"_

Jakob held back an annoyed grunt, pinching the bridge of his nose instead. If Reina called them out for being late, he was definitely blaming him.

 _How irksome..._

 _"Ah, okay! I'll see you then, Mother. Take care of yourself!"_ Hanging up, Kamui set his phone down on the counter of his dressing room, facing Jakob once again with his usual grin. "Sorry I took so long," he chirped, brushing back his hair in front of the bejeweled mirror glowing in front of him. "It won't happen again."

From a small green container sitting next to him, he pulled out the plastic wrappings of a silvery heap of synthetic hair—a wig, in short—before playfully passing it to the other.

Though a sigh escapes Jakob's lips, he can't exactly stay mad at his friend for very long. There were bigger matters to attend to, anyway. "No need to apologize, Kamui." He replied. "Though, I _do_ have to rush now."

Covering his scalp with a thin bald cap, Jakob positioned the wig until it sat just right on Kamui's head. "Hold still," he murmured, letting adept fingers dab meticulously at the ivory halo of hair, softening up from a homemade concoction of coconut oil and conditioner. "This won't take long."

"Sure thing." Kamui's mind wandered elsewhere as he stared at himself within the mirror, making weird faces all the while. "...Truth be told, I'm a little nervous about today's shoot..."

A brow becomes raised on his hairdresser's face. "You remember your lines, don't you?" Jakob asked, brushing out the tangles and knots with a small brush. It settled right along the other man's shoulders, glittering in the light. Grabbing scissors, he snipped at frivolous split ends until there wasn't a single one in sight.

Kamui nods, winking from behind. "Yep! Flora was practicing with me yesterday." Antsy fingers tapped along the edge of the counter. "She happens to talk about you a lot, you know."

He didn't notice the light blush crawling upon Jakob's face while he combed back a few stray ends, clipping it down with a transparent bobby pin. "...That's good." His mind rattled for another conversation starter. "Say, Kamui—Is that coat fitting you correctly? Felicia was being a bit clumsy this morning with the measuring..."

Kamui felt around his waist, nodding absentmindedly. Truthfully, his pants were only slightly tight–but the last thing he needed was for Jakob to obsess over his clothes again. "It's fine."

"And the cups? How do they feel?"

Kamui placed both hands down on his chest, well aware of the small pillow placed right on top of it. Hidden under multiple layers of cloth—and a giant trench coat—one could hardly tell they were even fake.

"They're fine too."

"Good." Powder practically exploded in his face as Jakob peppered it onto his cheeks, holding a small tray of numerous shades of tan—courtesy of his best friend, Nyx, who inherited her mother's star-studded makeup company. "Now, hold still again."

He felt like his face was only a mere canvas for Jakob, as he guided a slim tube of eyeliner along the rims of his eyelids, creating thin, jet black lines that looked like wings. (Some technique Jakob told him about—all the girls were doing it now, apparently.) His lips felt glossed over with a light layer of lipstick–blending in with his complexion rather well.

When he was finished, Jakob stood back a bit, narrowing his eyes. "You look rather handsome, sir." He drawled, contemplating his work. "Or, pretty. Take your pick."

When taking a final look at himself in the mirror, Kamui knew he was no more.

He was _all_ Corrin now—transformed through and through. He was still amazed at the many things Jakob could do, even after two years of working with him.

"Ah, you think so?" Kamui put a hand to his chin and raised a mischievous brow. "I guess I can't be so surprised. You're the one who helped, after all."

"Naturally." Smiling, he pointed towards the door.

"Break a leg, _Corrin."_

* * *

The end of the world had come at last—and, as he had originally predicted, it was all his fault.

 _Again_.

It was also that bastard of a fox too, but Leo figured it was only a matter of time before a "someone's pet peed on me" story would play itself out before him, just like it did on TV.

Or, at least, the TV _he_ watched.

Regardless, he made no hesitation in scanning around Sakura's house for a possible bathroom, pacing towards the nearest open door after asking Hinoka first. Not even the rotting stench that was Iago's century old scent could distract him from the bottomless pit that was his stomach, weighing down with the thoughts of the countless mistakes he made over the course of only a day. (Even after constantly telling himself not to think about them.)

He sat on top of the toilet seat, fiddling with his thumbs in agitation.

 _You've done it again, Leo._ He says to himself. _Good job._

His mind raced with all kinds of things, nonsensical and all. He wondered why he even bothered going along with his siblings in the first place, knowing he was nothing more than a stammering mass of flesh and bone.

He wouldn't have survived at all if it wasn't for Camilla's constant compliments that distracted Mikoto, (Oh, how he wished he could've read that script.) and Elise's exuberance booming throughout the house. He wondered why he didn't stop Sakura as she fled back inside the first time—surely, a conversation could've begun there.

But of course, she probably ran over how terribly creepy he looked as he smiled. It was the only reason. And he couldn't blame her, either.

Leo wondered why he couldn't simply pinch himself and go back to waking up at the beginning of Saturday to avoid it all—including Keaton's slob fest from earlier. Starting over to give it another go felt like a great idea.

Talking to Sakura, however, washed away all the inner doubts running rampant in his head—replaced with a fuzzy feeling that surged through his chest. It made him glad that he hadn't already left yet, even in Camilla's absence upstairs.

He felt like he had a purpose when immersed in her presence—while his shortcomings as the youngest of Garon's sons were kept at bay, she made him feel like he was already on top of the world; like nothing else mattered but him.

While it was a selfish thought, he couldn't help but sink into the need of attention.

Leo needed the day to last longer—enough for him to get to know her, at least. (And then, he'd brag to his friends all about it in the chatroom later.)

Standing up, he cupped his hands over his face and hit his cheeks twice, looking over himself in the mirror with a hard gaze. He tries his best to imagine himself as Xander, getting ready for another long, boring day in college. Though the height was somewhat difficult, the vision in his head was accurate enough.

 _You can do this._

There was still time to prove that he wasn't a _total_ loser in her eyes, if she saw him that way at all. Opening the door slowly, Leo walked out with his head tilted upward, towards the stairwell. He was ready this time.

Elise throws him another goofy glance, while Takumi hammered down on a grimy little stain in the corner of the kitchen.

 _Good luck, silly,_ she seems to say. _I'm rooting for you!_

He motions back a nod, making her promise not to tell their Father _anything_.

Sakura descended down the stairs again after some time, meeting Leo's wild gaze as he stood in front of the bathroom door.

 _I'm ready._

She smiles at him nervously, sending chills down his spine—still throughly embarrassed and flustered, like he. Sakura soon made her way towards him while looking down, hesitant on meeting his eyes again. (Nishiki's accident still bummed her out—their conversation was going so well!)

"U-Um...try putting this on!" She stammered, holding out the garment towards him. "It might be a _bit_ big, though..."

Leo's eyes darted towards the wad of denim blue and large bronze buckles—complete with an open pocket that stretched over the front of the outfit.

Overalls.

She was trying to give him _overalls._

And he, shocked that she had even gone through so _much_ just to find him clothes, thought it was the best thing on the planet.

His hands brushed across her fingers ever so slightly when she hands him the trousers, sending shockwaves of surprise up his arms. "T-Thank you..." He whispered, ever so quietly. "I'll be back..."

Sakura nodded her head, biting back an awkward response that could've surely ended her then and there. "O-Okay!" She replied, looking away. "If you need a-anything else, you can _always_ ask, you know?"

His lips drew themselves into a faint smile. "Of course." A sheepish chuckle flew out of his mouth—too soon, he knew. "Thanks for the clothes..."

"...No problem..."

They both stare at each other a while longer, not minding the view one bit.

It was only when Leo realized he still smelled like fox urine that he awkwardly excused himself, holding in another nervous laugh. From behind the bathroom door, his heart pounded heavy against his chest.

Today was a good day after all—for there wasn't a greater sight than Sakura's own features—crafted by the gods.

* * *

After the Shepherds had finally ended, Garon had fallen into a comforting nap that lasted for a good thirty minutes or so. It would've lasted even longer, if it wasn't for the _blasted_ telephone that begged to be answered.

The first time, he ignored it for the sake of laziness—he _despised_ bill collectors, after all—and the second time was only because he wondered if the caller was willing to dial again.

 _Three_ times did the phone blare in his ears, costing him a splitting headache in the process. Groaning, Garon reluctantly stood up and reached for the phone, dreading whoever was about to speak.

"Speak now, or I'll hang up."

The sultry voice of a woman responds almost instantly to the taunt, slurring in a thick Italian accent. It was familiar only in memories stretching back decades—decades that he _really_ didn't feel like mining over.

 _"Come now, amore. That wouldn't be very nice, would it?"_

"For god's sake..." He let out an exhausted sigh upon realizing who it was. "If you're calling to ask about how I feel about Sumia calling off the engagement, this is _hardly_ the right number."

Laughter echoes on the other side of the phone. _"You wound me, darling! I wish I could've seen your face. But no—I call for different reasons."_

Handling Camilla was already a handful within itself—dealing with her ever elusive mother was just as stress inducing. Her flamboyance knew no bounds, fooling him at every turn. Even with a large fashion industry, she still found the time to pester him with calls—as if she never had anything important to do for herself.

 _"Where is my darling girl, Garon? Is she home, watching you suffer~?"_

He wished he could reach within the phone and flick her on the forehead–just to see her get mad. _"Very_ funny, Marzia," He replied in monotone. "But, she's not here right now."

Marzia clicked her tongue, shaking her head. _"That's a bummer. But I suppose that's a good thing for you, hm~?"_

"As long as I'm not getting any complaints from the other neighbors." Garon ran through the thinning wasteland that was his hair as he listened to Marzia's incoherent ramblings, regretting even touching it. "Regardless...what did you need to tell her?"

Marzia snickered, raising a hand over her mouth. Her hands were studded with gold rings and filigree bracelets. _"Oh, someone is nosy! Haven't you heard of a girl to girl conversation?"_

"Unfortunately, I have." He unknowingly smiles at his own comeback, if it could even be called one.

Marzia scoffs, barely affected. _"Hush up, darling. Normally, I am sworn to secrecy. But, since you want to know so bad, you must listen very closely to what I'm about to say—è molto importante."_

"Yes, I'm listening."

He could hear her clap her hands, laughing afterward. A good indication that she had at _least_ one drink or two before calling.

 _"Good!"_ She quips. _"Now, here's the news—the girls and I are coming over to visit for the summer—Leo's birthday is around this time, is it not?"_

Garon traced the calendar nearby with his finger, eyeing June with a contemplative gaze. Elise had the courtesy of writing in all the _"totally important"_ dates on it—birthdays included. He saw his youngest son's name inscribed on the thirtieth—only three weeks away.

"Yes, you'd be about right. But are you certain on coming all the way out here?"

 _"Of course, amore. Sabine wants to see him—badly, she does. Katerina just wants to get out of France, for the scenery bores her now—and Chloe..."_ Marzia trails off for a moment. _"She will say yes to anything I invite her to."_

His lips thinned out in a narrow frown. The thought of four other women in his house, including the two already there, made him slightly uncomfortable. "This house can only hold so many people..."

 _"Well, sending clothes is not enough for her, Garon. And I know you are as broke as a tree with no leaves–so no travel for you, my dear."_

He wanted to prove her wrong, just for the sake of it—but unfortunately, she wasn't that far off from the truth. (Xander was his only hope of not being sent to a retirement home.)

 _"Anyway, don't tell anyone! Not even Keaton! He will tell Camilla, I know it so."_

Garon looked down towards the young dog making circles around his legs, chewing at his slippers as if they were fuzzy chew toys.

"Right, I won't say a word." His voice grew thick with sincerity. "Not even _Keaton."_

Marzia seems to catch his swift change in tone within only seconds of hearing it, sighing in awe _. "Thank you, Garon."_ She murmured. _"You won't believe how much that means to me."_

She started to sniffle quietly on the phone—phony sniffles, of course, but the effect was all the more real. _"You know...hearing your voice again...it makes me happy..."_

"Marzia..." _Oh god, why now..._

One thing the woman could never let go was her never-ending parade of affection—which was really just a giant speech broken up in cheesy phrases and old movie quotes that would make him want to vomit internally.

 _"Ah, we really haven't spoken in forever! I'm surprised you even remember the number. I wonder if the man I loved so still loves me too..."_

A pause separates them for some time. Though she didn't know it, Garon had completely froze up with surprise.

"...Yes," he mutters. "...I do."

 _"You wound me, tenfold."_ She makes a loud _"Hmph"_ on the other side. _"It takes you this long to answer?"_

"Would you have rather me said no?"

 _"...Huh. I'll take what I can get, I guess."_ Marzia sighed heavily into the phone, preparing to hang up. _"Now, Garon—take care of yourself, you hear me? I'll hurt anyone who harms my precious man...the light of my life..."_

"Marzia, please."

 _"The apple of my beauteous eyes..."_

Even at his weathered age, she still made him feel like a kid begging for his mother to quit _embarrassing_ him already.

"...Take care of yourself too."

He hung up slowly, hands still clammy from holding the phone.

Love was a strange, fleeting thing.

* * *

 **I apologize if I didn't go too in depth with Leo and Sakura this time around. I wanted to go ahead and get Kamui's establishment in the story out there while it was still fresh in my head.**

 **I chose the Hyōgo prefecture as the original hometown for the Hoshidan siblings, because it is also where the Himeji (or, Shirasagi, _wink, wink_ ) Castle is located.**

 **Translation Notes**

 ** _*I decided against using literal Japanese in places where Kamui speaks to Mikoto, solely because translators aren't exactly...accurate._**

 ** _*Please feel free to correct me if some translations are wrong!_**

 **Italian phrases**

 ** _amore_ —love**

 ** _È molto importante_ —It is very important.**

 **Name/Surname References**

 **(A small list of names that are currently being used in this fanfic—mainly in this chapter—and the history behind them.)**

 **First names**

 ** _Marzia_ —Camilla's mother; taken from the actual name of Camilla's wyvern in Fire Emblem Fates. It's meaning can be derived as a feminine variation of the Roman god of war, Mars. (Italian in origin.)**

 ** _Sabine_ —Leo's mother; In history, the Sabines were individuals of an ancient tribe who lived in central Italy, existing long before the founding of Rome. According to legend, the Romans kidnapped their women—to become their wives—in order to populate their newly-founded city. ****(Latin in origin)**

 ** _Katerina_ —Xander's mother; established somewhat in Fates itself. Derived from the Greek work "katharos", which means "pure." ****(Greek in origin)**

 ** _Chloe_ —Elise's mother; in Greek mythology, Chloe was an epithet of the goddess Demeter, roughly meaning "to bloom", (blooming, etc.) ****(Greek in origin)**

 **Surnames**

 ** _Naya_ –the surname chosen for Anankos, Kamui's biological father (named after the late Rokurō Naya, his Japanese voice actor, as well as Gunter's.)**

 ** _Tokugawa_ —The family name of the Hoshidan siblings. (Derived from a powerful daimyo clan that was responsible for bringing roughly 200 years of economic stability to Japan.)**


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

Like any other Saturday, and all the days after, the time passed a lot quicker than Leo had ever imagined—what was once the outlook of a shimmering morning was now a pale, placid evening, casting a brooding shadow over the countless rows of houses lined up in his neighborhood.

Birds were beginning to make their way back to wherever they had came before, traveling in cluttered, squawking groups toward the hazy sunset. The heat of the sun disintegrated into cool air and breezy winds—a phenomenon that Leo had come to know as normal in the summertime. (The spring was _much_ too rainy.)

He, Camilla, _and_ Elise worked alongside Mikoto, Sumeragi, and their children—up until the veil of the evening light had littered the sky with large blotches of orange and sunset yellow.

It was the longest he had ever spent in anyone's house—especially when they were nothing more than strangers. A nice record, if he counted out the numerous trips to the _many_ homes of his aunt, Chloe. (One in California, one in New York, and three in Florida alone. He was surprised she hadn't gone bankrupt yet.)

Regardless of the fact that he knew little to nothing about Sakura's family—lots of things had occurred within the timeframe of his arrival; such as the _delightful_ showcasing of his new overalls, despite the fact that the straps hung on his arms like unruly bedsheets.

Elise couldn't hide her guffawing snorts in, and ended up laughing like there was no tomorrow. (Hinoka had to go bring her water afterward.) In the midst of it all, he could see Sakura giggling to herself, too.

His heart had raced when her eyes bounded to his again, full of life and vigor.

On occasion, they both had on and off conversations with each other, busying themselves to the brink while conversing of basic _"getting to know you"_ knowledge—favorite colors, numbers, and food. How old they were, and what their favorite hobbies were.

He learned right off the bat that she liked pink— _light_ pink, to be specific, and nothing more. _The shade of cherry blossoms, and a new spring day._

She liked the number nine, as that was how old she was when getting her first bike. Fifteen was her age now—and next year, she was to start her first year in high school. (Only a year behind Leo, who would be a boring old sophomore.)

Sakura's favorite food was something that Leo had only tried once—pizza, covered in nothing but pineapple slices and mushrooms in the middle. Regurgitating as it sounded, she assured him it was pretty good... _without_ the mushrooms.

Everything, in short, was going reasonably well. The awkwardness that had originally been planted in their first greeting had nearly washed away.

"I always liked purple," He mumbled at one point. "Dark purples, mostly."

"You'd look nice in purple," She replied, realizing what she had said only after the fact. "N-Not that you'd look _ugly_ in other colors! I'm sure you'd look... _f-fantastic!"_

Leo waved it away with a chuckle, internally reeling with a hidden pride over being complimented. "It's alright. _I_ think you'd look fantastic in pink."

 _"R-Really?"_ Her eyes blinked back surprise. "T-Thank you..."

"No problem."

Everyone seemed to be aware of the small friendship growing between the two—but unlike Takumi, who was still skeptical of the whole visit—Ryouma, Hinoka, and Elise found it charming.

From the very moment their hands shook, Leo was pretty much certain that her brother hated his _guts_.

The entire time, he did nothing but glower in his direction, eyeballing him as if he were a lowly peasant that came straight out of the slums. (The overalls didn't help.)

Although they had helped each other sweep the floors free of dust before, Leo hadn't bothered saying a single word. He could tell the atmosphere was too fragile—one wrong word, and all hell could've broke loose.

"He's usually like that sometimes," Sakura would tell him, "He'll warm up to you soon enough, though! He's very nice..."

"I see..."

Sometime after, Ryouma and Sumeragi had both returned from upstairs, greeting everyone on the main floor as if it was some sort of meet-and-greet party. (But if it was up to Camilla, it _really_ could've been.)

Leo remembered freezing in place completely when his eyes unknowingly fell onto Sumeragi, feeling uncomfortable shudders hightail down his spinal cord. Whatever confidence he had before after talking to Sakura was yanked back into the roots of his self-esteem, withering away from sight.

But Sumeragi was a respectable man, as Leo came to eventually find out—he was broad shouldered and buff like his father (at least, in old photos), yet strikingly calm and fair. Soft-spoken and wise was he, despite the brooding nature in his embedded deep in his eyes.

A nature _much_ like Takumi's, the more he thought about it.

He and Ryouma looked completely alike in almost every way-if you didn't count the faded stubble that grazed the elder man's chin. Such similarities like that in his family could only be found within Xander—as most of Garon's features were passed onto him.

The only thing Leo got from him was his distinctive shade of blonde—the rest was from his mother. It made him a bit jealous over how alike they were–until he realized that there really was no need to.

* * *

On the porch steps, they said their temporary goodbyes (with Camilla generously offering to come again _tomorrow_ , of course), leaving to return to their own home—before Garon clocked out on the couch.

Mikoto delights herself over having made a new friend, with Camilla only adding onto her tirade of smiles. Elise gave her a warm, befitting hug—though it was part of the script, of course.

Ryouma shook Leo's hand, throwing him a small, brotherly grin afterward. (Leo, meanwhile, marveled at how strong his grip was.) Hinoka bowed graciously, imitating her father as he did the same.

Before leaving, Sakura had inquired him if he was busy with anything tomorrow. Sparks flew in his head as he said no, causing them to fly even _higher_ when she asked if he was willing to give her and Hinoka a tour around the neighborhood.

Swiftly, he agrees—without thinking about it first, of course.

Her lights had lit up like the stars, while excitement bubbled up in her chest. She waved to Leo gingerly as he followed Camilla and Elise out onto the walkway.

 _See you tomorrow!_

It made his heart throb hard enough that he nearly fell over on the last porch step, but that was okay.

It was _so_ worth it.

He shuffled around their yard in his new overalls, not minding the collection of grass and dirt that had gathered at the hems of both his pants legs.

"Man, Leo—you're such a dork!"

He kindly ignores Elise's obvious tease, choosing to ruffle her hair instead of fighting for a good comeback.

* * *

"Father, we're back!"

Camilla's voice rang out in the dreary air of silence, before being whisked away by Keaton's frivolous barking. He licked his owner's cheeks until they were slick with slobber, before moving onto his next victim—but as usual, Elise didn't mind.

Leo felt his arms double up with goosebumps, sending chills throughout his body. "It's so _cold_ in here..."

"Right? I wonder what possessed him to do that..."

Elise ran out into the living room upon hearing a series of short snores coming from further inside the house, brimming with joy when learning he hadn't left without her knowing.

"Oh my _gosh!_ Look at him!"

Camilla and Leo rounded around the small cut in from kitchen and joined their little sister in the room, seeing her crouched down low in front of an old man slumbering lopsided on the couch. Turning on the lights, the image was made even clearer—one pillow had been laced in his hands, while another was propped up nicely against his head.

"Oh my..." Camilla smiled, twisting her hair behind her ear. "He looks like an overgrown _baby_..."

"An overgrown baby..." Leo contemplated the notion, assessing the sight as if it were some ancient specimen. "...With eye bags...and a beard."

"Aw, you guys..."

Elise enjoyed the view a little while longer, before a low, gassy growl thundered from her stomach. She held her hand over her torso as if she were trying to quiet it down. The small container belonging to an unfinished salad laying right below Garon didn't help her sudden hunger, either.

"So...what're we going to eat?"

Leo looked at Camilla, who looked at Elise, who looked right back at Leo.

Leo didn't even _know_ how to boil a hotdog, so he was far from doing anything kitchen related. Elise only knew how to bake from Camilla—and even then, she barely knew what she was doing. And Camilla...

Well, sometimes the girl was just too lazy to cook. And today just so happened to be one of those days.

"...I can always put some pizza rolls in the oven..."

"Really?" Elise raised her head up, gasping. "I thought you could only put them in the microwave!"

Camilla laughed, shaking her head while running through Keaton's fur. "They taste _disgusting_ that way, my dear. At least in the oven, you'll know they're not frozen still."

"Oh! Good point..." Elise's eyes cut back to her father, and back at her sister.

"I'll be _riiiiight_ back."

She bounded up the stairs as fast as she could, before returning a couple minutes later with a large blanket she snatched up from her bed. Camilla and Keaton went back into the kitchen to fetch some pizza rolls from the freezer, leaving only Leo at the dining table.

Leo watched impassively as Elise flapped her newfound covers across the floor, wondering exactly what she was up to.

"Here, dad," She chuckled, spreading the sheets messily on top of him. "Now you won't be so cold!"

Though he was already fast asleep, Elise could still see the small smile cracking on her father's face.

* * *

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Guys, guess what._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _What is it?_

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Lay it on us, bro._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Don't mind if I do._

 _Anyway, my mother and I went to get our hair dyed today. Isn't that exciting?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Whoa!_ _What color was it originally?_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Black._ _But now, it's just white. Like the snow~_

 ** _(1)_ _TheChosenOne_**

 _Jesus Christ, dude._ _That sounds super edgy._

 _And cool._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _Do you have a picture of it?_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _ **Whoa** there._

 _Belka wants to see what **I** look like in real life?  Shocking._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _How so?_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oh, come now._

 _I know you love me, but I might be too..._

 _Camera shy~_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _I see._

 _ **(1 )KillerSadist**_

 _...Wait._

 _You're not going to protest the last part?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _What did you expect her to do?_ _It's Belka, for crying out loud._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _I'm not talking about the picture, silly._

 _Belka, do you mean that?_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _Yes._

 _Oh, Leo is online now._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _YES TO **WHAT?**_

 _Goddammit._

 _Boss, I'd never expect you to be a cockblocker._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Chill out, Niles._

 _Hi, Leo!_

* * *

Leo pursed his lips when he opened up the chatroom to Valla, looking over his team's stats on another tab.

Exhaustion numbed his fingers at the keyboard—even though it was only seven o'clock. He noticed that they had tried going after Golem D again, this time succeeding in getting a better time than last—even though the previous team before then were still the victors.

...With an even _faster_ time that last.

5:58:09.

And that time, only two of the members had been online.

 _Powerhouses_...

He shoved the thought out of his head, before focusing his attention on typing out a thorough reply.

* * *

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Hello, everyone._

 _I apologize for not being on earlier._ _I had a long day._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Same here, my friend._ _But it's fine. You're here now._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _It's okay, Leo._

 _In some news, Odin recently mastered a new skill._

 _We are going to use it in the next battle._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Aww, I wanted to tell him that!_

 _But it's okay! :)_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Eh, it probably sounds better when she says it._

 _Speaking of, I really wonder what you all sound like._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _You probably sound like a sadistic bastard._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Hm._

 _You probably sound like this one guy from the soap opera my grandmother watches..._ _He's always talking about sword hands, and his aching blood._

 _Whatever the hell that is._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Oh, please._

 _Whoever that is sounds like a huge dork._

 _A dork that **I** am **not.**_

 _Anyway, we should try fighting the golem again! Now that Leo's here, we have extra power!_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _True, true._

* * *

A smile crossed his lips while he stared up at the clock.

He'd have to wait another thirty until Camilla's pizza rolls were done—battling a couple golems or two would surely make the time pass even more.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _That sounds good._

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _Hmm..._

 _I'm not sure if I'll last that long..._

 _At least, before my parents wake up._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _:^0 Really?_

 _Where're you from, Bel? New York? Texas? Hawaii?_

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _Russia._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Russia? Oh my._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Damn, that's far._

 _...Aren't the times different there?_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Obviously. It's on the other side of the world._

 _But...it's 2am over there. Shouldn't you be asleep, Belka?_

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _I am not tired._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Oh c'mon, Belka!_

 _You obviously are. That's really late, y'know?_

 _You should sleep now, so you can hang with us tomorrow!_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Mhm._

 _And Daddy Niles wants his little girl to get her beauty sleep~ uwu_

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _What_

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Niles, quit being weird._

 _What do you think, Leo?_

* * *

Leo paused a moment to think, letting his brain mull over what to say.

Originally, he'd wanted to tell his friends all about Sakura after fighting the golem—in some way or another—but now didn't seem like a good time.

* * *

 _ **(1 )PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Well..._

 _I wouldn't want you to pass out or anything, Belka._ _Plus, sleep is good._ _I think you should get rest, even if you don't think you need it._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _...Very well._

* * *

Her name disappeared completely from the chat.

* * *

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Well, darn. There goes my chance._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Niles, you never had one._

 _Since we're all still here...why don't we just talk about what we did today? Besides you, since you already told us._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Aha, you slay me._

 _But,_ _I **have** been wondering what Big Daddy's been up to, actually..._

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _If you're referring to me, I'd advise you not to call me that._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _But Leo, I can't help it._ _Kinkshame me all you want._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Nah, dude._ _We're used to it._

 _But what **did** you do today, Leo? Just wondering._

* * *

A pause set the chatroom back a bit, before Leo came up with a good enough reply.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _Well..._

* * *

 **Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! (You'll find that I say this a lot—but I mean, it's a habit.)**

 **It also really means a lot to me that so many enjoy my writing (even when I think it's meh at times ^^") It makes writing itself all the more enjoyable.**

 **Take care, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

Holding back a terrified scream, Takumi woke up feverishly to the sound of Sakura's soft snoring in the dead of the night—right around where the pale streaks of dawn were beginning to dart across the sky.

His hands were sweaty, and his breath felt heavy; his heart pounded in short, weary thumps, bits of sweat beading around his forehead.

Sakura lay still in bed, unaware of her brother's frantic panting from beyond the veil of slumber. Her hair lay disheveled on the pillow beneath her, while the ever cunning Nishiki rested peacefully at the foot of her bed. (Takumi wished he could kick him off and send him limping away, but Sakura would've cried her eyes out till he apologized.)

Takumi gazed at her a little while longer, seeing the way the fading moon highlighted the faint crease in her eyebrows. She had been dreaming hard about something—but it didn't seem to be another nightmare about her old friends.

In _his_ dream, he saw numerous thickets of green and pink, veiled by moving shadows and smiling faces. The scenery went from a quaint gathering of people outside a gaudy church, to a large venue bustling with food and entertainment. There was more than enough evidence of music and chatter—but for some reason, he couldn't hear anything at all. Nothing came in, and nothing came out.

It was as if he were stuck in a soundproof world, hearing nothing but the thoughts racing perilously in his head.

Takumi then saw himself standing in front of an old, grimy mirror, dressed in a white tux that was stained with something red. (He guessed it was spaghetti sauce, but it was hard to tell.) His hair was tucked in a long, intricate braid, settling right below his waistline. Becoming bored with his unruly complexion, he blew his breath on the surface to trace scraggly words with his index finger, before they eventually evaporated away.

 _"Hey, you,"_ the message starts, moving on its own—a monotonous chorus of bells rings in his ears as it continued. _"Don't fight it."_

 _Don't fight what?_

Before he can find proper answers, Takumi found himself back at the venue again, pushing through gray shadows and blank faces, searching for someone; anyone, really. But all he can see are blurs—people he used to know, and people he thought he knew.

Until one stuck out like a sore thumb.

 _Ryouma!_

Takumi saw his brother and father sitting next to each other at a nearby table, hands locked in fierce competition.

Veins from Ryouma's arm bulged while he gritted his teeth, desperately attempting to overthrow Sumeragi's—who hadn't budged since it started. They seemed to be having a competition over the last slice of cake sitting near them, but he didn't know for sure.

 _"This one...is for Takumi..."_

 _"Don't get ahead of yourself, son..."_ Chuckling once, Sumeragi slammed Ryouma's hand smack on the table without a second thought. _"Know your place."_

Ryouma rolled his eyes then, clasping his reddening hand with a sour frown. Even when trying to get their attention afterward, Takumi's own hands went right through them.

 _Someone else..._

Takumi scanned the area, searching once more.

 _Hinoka...!_

He made a beeline towards the halo of red further out in the sea of gray, pushing and shoving recklessly for space—until he found her _quite_ occupied with someone else. She was laughing and smiling, too busy with her new friend to see her brother flailing his arms in her direction.

Knowing there was no hope for him, Takumi reached out towards a barren light gleaming far off at the edge of the venue—and a name popped up in his head.

 _Sakura._

 _Yep, she's gotta be around here somewhere._

As he journeyed ahead, the scenery of the venue begins to crack from within, peeling away like frayed ends of paper gone sour, before he fell face first into a lukewarm pond of koi fish. He sputtered out water and bits of algae, with frightened fish swimming away on impulse. Random as it was, it made his sight a lot clearer than it had been before.

And what he had seen had ultimately scarred him for life—in the most unimaginable way possible. His breathing grew thick while he watched dawn emerge, settling back into the sunken tomb of his bed.

A voice he hadn't expected on hearing, however, suddenly came into existence—much too deep to belong to Sakura or Hinoka.

"Takumi." It whispered, full of concern. "Look over here."

He followed the voice's fleeting instructions, before nearly dropping his jaw in shock.

Sumeragi stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his robed chest. The shadow he cast overhead overlapped Takumi's own, gaining size as he moved even closer to him.

"Dad?"

Takumi, on his own accord, froze; he had no words to say, even if he wanted to. Face paling, he bit his bottom lip and tried feigning sleep—but found it pointless after his father had obviously seen him already.

 _Oh gods, what if he heard me..._

There was nothing more embarrassing in the world than that. He resorted to nodding his head—slowly at first, to catch his breath. He forgot the man always woke up this early; how he did, he never knew.

"Takumi..." He had whispered, shaking his head. "...You troublesome boy..."

Sumeragi plopped down next to his son when he noticed some space had been left for him, lifting up his chin ever so slightly to look him dead in the eyes. "I heard you from the hallway. What happened?"

 _Dammit._

The intensity of his gaze scared Takumi into nearly going with his default reply—but knowing his father, he doubted he'd fall for it again. Sumeragi knew him down to a _science_ , at this point.

"...U-Um...just a thing...that happened..." His words spill out uncomfortably, fumbling over one too many. "...Nothing you'd need to worry about."

Sumeragi watched him cower before his eyes, seeking refuge by scanning the wall—the one that was still bare and lacked anything interesting.

"Why's that?" He asked. "You don't trust me?"

"Huh?" Takumi whirled his head around, suddenly shocked. "N-No, I _trust_ you. It's just..."

He was too scared to say anything more, like he always was. His eyes began to sting back frustrated tears, welling up in the crevices. "...Nightmare..."

Sumeragi kept his gaze stuck on him for a couple minutes, before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. "Son, what am I going to do with you?"

A sleepy chuckle escapes his lips, surprising Takumi from the burning sensation stinging his eyes. Was now such a good time to laugh?

"What do you mean?"

Sumeragi let the air hang again in mere silence, contemplating his confusion with an amused smile. He leaned forward, lifting Takumi up by the shoulders.

 _"D-Dad,_ what're you—"

" _Shhhhhh_. Don't talk."

Takumi felt his cheeks flare up when he felt Sumeragi's gentle arms hug around his neck, the crisp scent of body lotion permeating into his nostrils.

Sumeragi held on, rocking him slowly as if he were still a child. He hummed a tender lullaby Takumi hadn't heard since he was seven—when someone he held dear to his heart had left without a trace.

"...Hiding your feelings won't help you, or me." He murmured quietly. "I thought I told you that."

Takumi's eyes fell upon the windowsill, beginning to brighten with the dawn's newfound light. He wanted to choke up and start crying—but Sakura needed her sleep. "You did..." He replied. "...But I might've forgotten."

He found his arms connect back up, breathing in the refreshing comfort of his father's solace—hoping it'd last forever.

"So, did another takoyaki monster eat your mother?"

Or _not_.

"Dad, that was last week. I don't even eat that stuff anymore."

"You ate it for dinner."

"B-Because there was _nothing_ else to eat!"

While Sumeragi laughed, Sakura watched it all, feigning slumber the entire time.

* * *

The smell of Camilla's summertime perfume— _Seafoam Citrus_ , to be exact—tickled Leo's nose in the middle of Sunday morning, begging for his eyelids to crack open before the glare of the sun—or Keaton—caught up to him.

Camilla made her way into her younger brother's room, flaunting about with a flirtatious swagger in her step. Black heeled shoes clacked along the floors, while her hands reached towards the blinds a couple feet away in his room.

On the bed, Leo's body laid completely diagonal—one arm flung over the side, while both legs dangled from the floor, along with the covers. Drool ran along the side of his mouth, forming a small pool of saliva beneath his cheeks.

Had it not been for that disgusting display, Camilla would've pinched his cheeks until he squirmed awake.

"That's gross..."

Camilla braced herself as she drew the curtains away, letting a blinding wave of light pool into the dark spaces in the room. Her brother, meanwhile, held back a sour groan, opening his eyes just a little.

He _really_ didn't have time for anything.

After showering much later after dinner had been served on little plastic plates the night before, Leo had given into his little adventure upon meeting Sakura to his friends—leaving out the incident with his pants, of _course_ —and let the reactions of both Niles and Odin to flood the chat with ease.

* * *

 _ **(1)** **KillerSadist**_

 _What?! Boss met a girl?_

 _ **Ask her out.**_

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Bro, that's amazing._ _Do you know her name?_

 _Her favorite song?_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Why would he need to know that?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _So he can put it on loop for their first date!_ _ **Duh.**_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Ah._ _I can tell you don't get asked out a lot..._

 _Anyway, spill the beans, Big Daddy._ _Niles wants his grandkids._

* * *

Leo remembered covering his forehead with his hands, cheeks flaring up with embarrassment.

* * *

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Niles, please._

 _Anyway, her name is Sakura._

 _Her family moved in yesterday, and we sort of, uh...became friends?_

 _Regardless, I've agreed to take her on a tour in our neighborhood tomorrow with her sister..._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _She's your neighbor? Oh my god, you're so lucky._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _I bet she's sexy._

 _Is she sexy, Leo?_

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Oh my god, no._

 _Sexy doesn't describe her at all..._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Cute sexy?_

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _ **NO.**_

 _She's just...pretty._

 _And very nice._

 **(1) TheChosenOne**

 _ **Ask. Her. Out.**_

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _I just met her._

 _And plus, I'm not even thinking about that right now._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Well, you know what they say._

 _You can't marry a girl you just met._

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Niles._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Big Daddy._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _ODIN!_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _*Nerd!_

 _ **Christ** , Odin, your English sucks._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

:^|

 _Meanie._

* * *

He remembered feeling on top of the world—long before he passed out from lack of sleep at around three in the morning.

Now it was Sunday, and he was completely behind on his time management.

 _"Leo~!"_ She crooned, sitting at his bedside. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

His head lolls lazily on top of her lap, focusing his vision on the dizzying features of his sister's face. "I don't want to..."

Upon closer inspection, he began to notice the bright yellow dress that hugged Camilla's every curve, contrasting the deep scarlet glossed graciously over her lips. Dangling from her ears were two filigree earrings that jangled about wherever she moved, glittering ever so often.

She looked _stunning_.

As usual.

"Why're _you_ so dressed up today?" He asked drowsily, hugging an old blanket over his disheveled hair. "Something new come up?"

Camilla leaned forward and poked his nose, chuckling to herself. "You bet it did," she teased. "And I bet you can't even _guess_ what it is."

A _challenge_.

Leo sat up steady on his knees and hummed, pressing a hand to his chin. He enjoyed small guessing games, no matter what time of day. "Hm...did some lout have the nerve to ask you on a date?"

Camilla raised a brow, holding in her laughter. "Oh, don't bother asking that," She quipped. "No one wants an old girl like _me."_

Leo can't really buy it, even if he knew she was joking. "You're modest, as always." _Beautiful too, but you already know that._

"I know, I know. But everyone seems to enjoy modesty—as boring as it sounds..." As she looked off into space, a lightbulb finally clicked in Leo's head.

"Oh...so it's an interview."

"And you'd be exactly correct, dear." Camilla replied, flipping thick tousles of lavender back with the flick of her wrist. "It's at the restaurant right off the interstate."

"The one that Father _despises?"_

She threw him a small smile. "The very one."

Leo rolled his eyes playfully, hopping off his bed to go fetch some clothes for later. A simple white T-shirt, and a pair of brown shorts that were far from Nishiki's range of urination, were all he chose. While it wasn't _nearly_ as fancy as Camilla's outfit, he figured it was good enough for Sakura.

 _Not_ that he was anticipating her _actually_ berating his choice of clothing, as horrible as his taste was.

"So..." He began, flinging his old pajama shirt in the hamper near the doorway. "How're you going to go to that interview and help the neighbors at the same time?"

As if all the sunshine had died off the minute Leo's words left his mouth, Camilla suddenly frowned. Anyone could easily tell that she hadn't thought about it in the slightest. Her eyes flick instinctively to the doorway, looking for some sort of compromise—read, excuse—hidden in the corners of his room. "Sweetie, you and Elise will just have to take my place. Duty calls, and your sister needs a job. Badly."

Leo felt his heart skip a beat. _But I'm supposed to give Sakura a tour._

She had been so _happy_ that he said yes—seeing her disappointed over a change of plans was the last thing we wanted to witness.

"Can't we just tell them we're busy or something? Elise can't go there by herself."

He watched his sister writhe with disgust. _Bad idea, Leo._

"Heavens, no. Why risk such a fragile friendship over something trivial like that?"

"I don't know," A smirk found its way across Leo's face. "Seems to me like you're only after _one_ guy here..."

Camilla sensed the underlying notion in his gaze, nearly mirroring his smirk. "Nonsense. The only man I've ever loved was that cutie at the flower shop." She bat her eyelashes delicately, looking pure and innocent. "But...Keaton's much better than all of them, if you ask me."

"I thought Lazward was a pretty nice guy. You didn't like him?"

Camilla stiffened at the notion, shaking her head almost instantly. "I loved him as if he were the only thing that mattered...besides my _family_ , obviously. But long distance relationships are a pain, dear brother. It wouldn't have worked."

Leo frowned. "How could you know?"

"Because, I just know. It's a _natural_ phenomenon, when you're someone like me."

He decided not to question her further.

* * *

Garon used to think that Sundays, as useless as they were, gave him leisure time to escape the agitating clutches of lifelong bill collectors.

They've been on him since he left his home country in France—and even then, they were still on him from afar. And, like some sort of cryptic tradition, they liked to call him every day, _except_ Sunday. (Holidays included.) They were all annoying–always asking questions, yet never bothered to say hello first. (Unmannered people, just looking for his money—now _that_ was something to gripe about.)

 _"Mr. DuBois, last year's records have shown that you haven't paid your—"_ Usually right there, he would hang up. He'd pay them back—eventually.

So while he happily rejoiced over not having to deal with them, he still happened to forget one fairly important aspect of Sunday.

"For gods sake, I _don't_ need your money. We've been over this about a million times."

 _"And a million times more shall I tell you, you mindless buffoon. You are broke, and aging faster than a worm. What if you starve the children?"_

Xander's mother was quite a pain to deal with—but for a slightly different reason.

Meanwhile, Elise had sat down at a table with a bowl of Lucky Charms in her hand, filled nearly to the brim with milk. She'd only just got up, after brushing her teeth.

"I bet you can't even _guess_ a worm's age, you little—" Garon stopped himself from saying any more, as Elise was still sitting at the table eating breakfast—clearly listening in on the conversation, even if she didn't look like it. (Her ears needed as much censorship as possible.)

She smiled at him through a mouthful of Lucky Charms when he looked in her direction, milk trickling endlessly down her chin. He simply patted her head in response, still too bitter to crack a proper smile.

Not while Katerina was still on the line, anyhow.

"...Excuse me. Anyway, no one in this house is going to starve. Why would _you_ , all the way in France, care what goes on here?"

The woman on the other end scoffs, fed up with his stubbornness—although, she won't admit that she still finds it endearing. _"Because I can, and I will. When will you start caring?"_

Garon's eye twitched, gripping the phone with a burning desire to throw it across the room. "Katerina, this conversation is over." He murmured. "Now, if _you_ want to enjoy your morning like Elise and I, perhaps you should apologize."

 _"The day you accept my money will be the day I bother to do so. Accept it, Garon."_

It was all she normally called in for, now that Xander was away in college—for as long as Garon could remember, Katerina always had a universal fear that he would die an old man; in an old house, with no money left to give in his will. (Which, if one of her extreme fantasies served, would cause his children to set him aflame until he was nothing but ashes—and then, they'd sell said ashes on eBay.)

He could give her kudos on her determination to provide as much money as she could to her family—but Garon didn't want it.

"I will not."

 _"But you must."_ That didn't seem to stop her. _"I will shower you with affection if you do. Senseless compliments over your disgusting wrinkles. Whatever nonsense Marzia talks about."_

He chuckled to himself. "My wrinkles happen to be very charming, according to Marzia. Wouldn't you say so... _mon amour?"_

Katerina paused suddenly, biting back a grunt. "... _Do not taint my language with such lies."_ She spat. _"You do not love me."_

"But indeed, I do. You're too busy with your sleazy marketing tricks to see that."

 _"...Garon, you are a handful."_ Her low, husky sigh sent short chills up his arms. _"...But I guess... that is why I chose you...all those years ago."_

He wanted to vomit in his mouth, if it were possible. "When did _you_ get so sentimental? It's not even noon." His short lived expectation on a heartfelt response fell short as soon as Katerina replied.

 _"...Business tactic."_ She huffed. _"I guess it didn't work."_

"...Right. I'm guessing you'll call next week, then."

He could hear her tap her foot on the ground—clearly displeased—but she seemed to have accepted her loss for today.

 _"More or less. Now...take care."_

"You as well."

Elise sat her elbows on the table when her father hung up at last, curious over what had occurred. (But knowing his tone, she could have guessed it was one of her aunts making a house call again.) Garon plopped down in a chair straight across from her, wiping away the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"Elise..." He muttered, "Do you remember what I told you about dating?"

The girl puffed out her cheeks, straining to think. Her eyes lit up upon realizing the answer. "Uh-huh!" She grinned. "Not until I'm thirty, right?"

Garon heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that his youngest daughter hadn't been tainted by the woes of love just yet. "That's my girl."

Leo and Camilla bustled down the stairs as Elise cheered in victory, dressed at their best. Garon raised a brow as Camilla casually sauntered towards him, purse swinging in the distance.

"Oh, _Father_ , look at you!"

Like Leo, he could smell the _Seafoam Citrus_ lingering on her skin, and her hair. It tickled his nose to the point where he nearly sneezed. Camilla smiled as she sat down in front of him, tilting her head to the side. "You look fabulous today, you know. Just like I do."

Garon rolled his eyes again, already done dealing with women today. "Come now, Camilla. Flattery gets you nowhere."

"Please, you know flattery is hardly my style. But anyway, guess what?"

"What is it?"

Her hands reached for his shoulders, as if keeping him steady over the immense excitement over finding out what his daughter was about to say. "I'm going for another job interview."

Garon closed his eyes, thinking of something trivial in his head. "Mhm."

"...I might get a _job."_

"Uh-huh."

"..." Camilla narrowed her eyes in his direction. "... _Fine_ , be that way. I'll be enjoying the breeze with Leo while you cry over how hopeless you are without your precious daughter."

Leo looked back from opening a small carton of chocolate milk, lips practically glued to the straw. He had only overheard a little of the conversation, up until the part where he heard his name.

"Sister, I already told you I'm not going to be there for long."

Camilla looked up at him with a light glare in her eyes—though, it was only meant to be playful. "Why's that, dear?"

He hesitated a moment, before slipping into his thoughts for a solid answer. "I have something planned with Sakura already."

At the mention of the name, Garon laid a swift hand on the table, whirling around in his chair to face Leo with a bewildered expression.

 _"Plans?"_ He spat. "Since when?"

Elise nearly fell over in laughter as Leo froze, unaware that he hadn't spoken to Garon about anything since yesterday morning. He didn't know about the Tokugawas. And he _especially_ didn't know about Sakura.

"D-Did _I_ say plans?" He stuttered, letting out a sheepish laugh. "I meant to say _planes_. Planes with Sakura. We're _building_ planes. _Paper_ planes."

He stared at him a little while longer, feeling the atmosphere tense.

"Leonardo DuBois..." Garon sighed, folding his hands. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

Leo could feel thorns growing in his back whenever his father dared to utter his full name. It wasn't the best time to look Garon in the eyes—but it _certainly_ wasn't the worst.

Elise giggled, barely containing her excitement. "Sakura's his new lady friend, Dad! He's _totally_ into her!"

"Lady friend?" Garon could feel himself growing faint.

Leo flinched, glaring daggers at his sister after throwing his milk carton in the garbage. "Elise, be quiet."

"Oh, but it's true!" Camilla added on to the fun, smirking at her brother behind a new coating of lipstick. "And get this, Father—they're going to go on a date today, too!"

 _This is what you get for trying to back out, silly._

"S-Shut up! It's not a date!"

"Unbelievable." Garon stood up from his chair and walked towards the staircase, ignoring Keaton's sudden arrival near the second floor. "I'm going to take a nap. Do not wake me."

Leo watched in silence when he heard his footsteps grow softer, and softer, until it disappeared behind the slam of a door. He looked at Camilla, who looked at Elise, who looked back at him again.

"If Father kills me by the end of the day, I'll come back to haunt you _both."_

* * *

 ** _Translation Notes_**

 **French phrases**

 ** _mon amour-my love_**

 **Surname References**

 ** _DuBois_ —the surname given for the Nohrian family—it's a topographic surname mainly for someone who, quote on quote, _"lived in the woods."_ ****In the game, I think the areas surrounding the Nohrian castle would've probably been a very woody area–filled with groves, thickets, and trees resembling that of a horror film.** **(I also chose this because of its roots in French—Garon's name happens to mean "guardian", so I felt matching it up.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

"Father..."

Leo hears nothing but silence—well _grumbling_ , but otherwise silence—on the other side, knowing fully well Garon wasn't very eager to respond. After escaping to the stairwell, and eventually his room, Garon hadn't bothered to come out all morning. Not even _once_.

From nine o'clock in the morning to eleven thirty, Leo had never been submerged in such boredom in his life—and not even all the toaster strudels in the world could lift his bummed out mood.

Camilla had left a few moments earlier to catch her interview on time, taking Elise with her for the sake of _"sisterly-bonding."_ (But, knowing her, Elise was only meant as an extra factor in her next baiting scheme.)

All who remained were Leo and Keaton, forced to wait out the rest of Sunday morning on the couch. The shows on Sunday always were pretty bad, as their normal lineup consisted mostly of long, dragged out paid programming ads, and soap opera reruns.

Nonetheless, Leo flipped channel through channel, thoroughly disappointed at every turn. The only thing remotely interesting was a news story about Azura Lazuli hosting a concert in his area—it was a duo performance with Kamui Naya, one of Elise's television crushes. (Though, Leo didn't recognize him that well, as he only knew him as a girl named Corrin.) Leo decided to keep it in mind, in case she wanted to go. _After_ she apologized for ratting him out, of course.

Keaton, meanwhile, sat unusually quiet in his lap, letting his tongue hang out sideways while his owner sighed. He was becoming increasingly aware of the time on the cable box, now showing **_11:40._**

Noon would come soon—and as far as Leo could remember, that was when Sakura said she'd be ready. While he was still pleasantly excited over hanging out with her again, nothing gnawed at him more than knowing Garon still disproved of his plans. Leo knew if Camilla and Elise hadn't tagged teamed together to throw him under the bus, he could've easily cleared up the misunderstanding holding his father back.

With Keaton now pawing lazily at his socks, Leo stood front and center at Garon's door—intent on talking his way through an apology.

Which brings _you_ , the ever lovely audience, here to this very moment in time—in which a boy attempts to clear things up for the sake of spending time with a girl. He tried about four or fives times already.

He _failed_ about four or five times already, too.

"Father," He asked once more, becoming even more desperate than the fifth time. " _Please_ , come out."

 _"Father's not here right now,"_ Garon grunted back. As usual, his overbearing stubbornness always prevailed. _"If you want to leave him a message, call 1-800-Leave-Me-Alone."_

Leo rolled his eyes, wondering just _who_ was the adult in the situation. "Father, we need to talk. I'm not leaving this house until we do."

 _"Is that so?"_ Leo heard a raspy laugh as soon as he finished his sentence. _"I hope you're ready to grow old with me then, Leonardo."_

Leo cringed again, clenching his fist against the door. " _Please_ , that name is embarrassing. I know you're only using it because you're mad."

A pause assumes the rest of the conversation—and his likely defeat—until Garon piped up again.

 _"Well, of course I'm mad,"_ He murmured, on the bridge of irritation. _"I honestly didn't think you'd be the type to fall for girls."_

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leo ignored the blush rising within his cheeks, somewhat offended. "I _just_ met her yesterday! Nothing happened other than the..."

 _Planes. Planes. Planes._

"T-The... _planes_. Yes, the planes." Leo didn't feel like giving Camilla or Elise the slightest satisfaction of calling it a date. A walk in the neighborhood was all Sakura asked for. And she _was_ going to get that, if he could get out of the house first.

 _"Son, lying gets you nowhere."_

She would _also_ get it if Garon would just believe him.

Leo held a hand to his forehead in frustration. "It was never intended to be one! Father, can't you at least _try_ to understand what I'm trying to say?"

Silence shrouded his voice in rejection yet again. Leo stood there for a couple more minutes, close to giving up on trying to convince his father, until he heard a soft click coming from the other side.

Garon opened the door slowly, letting Leo see only a good portion of his upper body. He glared downward until his eyes met his son's own, softening in a way that he had never seen before.

"You know...there are days when I wonder where the time has really gone..." His mouth lowered into a placid frown, extending an arm to rest his hand on top of Leo's hair. "One minute, you're an ugly sack of flesh crying in your mother's arms..."

Leo tried to hold in his laugh, but he let it out anyway. His father's humor was rather strange these days.

"...And now you're here. Almost a grown man, and already getting girl crushes..." Garon brushed his hand over Leo's cheek, heaving a heavy sigh. "Katerina always warned me about this with Xander..."

"H-Huh?" The mention of his elder brother startled him. "Xander has a girlfriend, doesn't he?"

" _Bah_. Like hell if I know." Garon quirked his lips into a bitter smile, lowering his hand away. "But...listen closely, Leo."

Leo felt his body tense up when his father's smile suddenly vanished, replaced with another thin frown. He did his best to focus all his thoughts on Garon's every word.

Once he had his son's full attention, Garon crossed his arms before responding—albeit reluctant in his decision. "...I'll allow you to see that girl today..."

In those few words alone, it was a bit hard to fully describe the absolute _bliss_ Leo felt when they slipped away from his father's mouth, sending a swarm of butterflies to self destruct in his stomach. He felt like a kid stumbling upon a pile of presents on Christmas Day—he didn't know whether to feel surprised or shocked.

His heart throbbed with an excitement only he and the phosphenes could decipher—because Sunday was saved yet again.

"O-Okay..." He replied, holding back the elation lacing his every word. His newfound happiness only lasted a short time, however, as Garon still had something in mind—Leo could only tell that much.

"On _one_ condition..."

* * *

Sakura shuffled about in her closest while flinging out hundreds of dresses, shirts, and shorts, panicking at the time now ticking away without a care in the world.

Like a girl out of the movies preparing for a trip, she had _no_ idea what to wear—there were too many options, and so little time.

The dress she _had_ planned to wear was soiled on by Nishiki, who'd accidentally used it as a toilet overnight. (She was _beyond_ mad, but couldn't bring herself to punish him very effectively.)

With no other solid option, she decided to go with a plain old shirt and plain old pants found in a spare clothes hamper, too busy rushing to iron them first.

Takumi watched in silence, still mentally engrossed in his dream—and a little bit on _Valla_. He'd been playing alongside Hinata all morning, even though he probably should've been asleep. Remembering that he had to deal with the new headache of timezones bothered him.

* * *

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Yo, Takumi._

 _I was gonna tell you this yesterday, but I forgot about the whole time thing now._

 _Anyway, it's about Oboro._

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _What is it?_

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Apparently, her dad got her tickets to the Azura Lazuli concert in the states._

 _You remember how she'd always talk about it in the chat, right?_

 ** _(1) FujinGod_**

 _Yeah, nonstop. She always missed the concerts in Japan, though._

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Yep._ _But now, she's gonna live with her grandma until it's over._ _I'm gonna be so lonely, dude :(_

 _...Y'know, I really miss coming over to your house everyday..._

 _Good times, right?_

* * *

A soft smile spread itself upon Takumi's face, while another wave of nostalgia washed over him.

Hinata used to come over to his house all the time while they still lived in Japan, coming over on weekends, study sessions (but of course, neither ever studied), and annually whenever his birthday rolled around during the wintertime. The knowledge of knowing he'd never see him in person for a while felt like a hard slap in the face— _courtesy_ of reality.

* * *

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _Of **course** they were._

 _It's hard to forget all the sleepovers we've had, isn't it?_

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Hell yeah!_

 _How's the new place, by the way?_

 _Forgot to ask, heh._

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _I'd say it's...alright._

 _Our neighbors are pretty active, though. **Always** wanting to help. __Even though I don't really trust one of them._

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _ **OOOOOO**_

 _Are any of them Valla players?_

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _Huh?_

 _ **Pfffft** , I doubt it._

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Darn._

 _We need to recruit badly, though._ _My family wants to visit my grandparents house, and I might stay there for the summer._

 _Meaning, little to **no** internet. __So I'll barely be online much, except the weekends._

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _Please, Hinata._

 _If you're thinking of getting replacements, it's not gonna work._

 _We'll stick together, even if some of us aren't there._

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Eh?_

 _...Takumi, you always know how to make me feel better :'^)_

 _You're the **best** , man._

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _W-Well..._

 _I try my best._

* * *

"...Takumi, do you think you could brush my hair for me?"

Sakura's barely audible request startles him from typing anything else. She stared at him hesitantly with a brush and comb in her hand, unaware that he was already busy with something else.

"What for? Can't you do it yourself?"

He bit his lip suddenly upon realizing his words came out too harsh, but Sakura didn't seem to notice. His mission to become her dearest brother meant being undeniably kind to her—even if he didn't feel like doing it. She cast her eyes downward, settling her feet into a new pair of socks.

"I-I _would_...but...I'd like it if you did it today..."

A vision from his dream flashes through his mind again when her eyes stare back into his—and for a moment, all he can think of is that _stupid_ , stammering _buffoon_ of a boy walking around in Ryouma's old overalls.

The one Sakura was _apparently_ into, for some reason.

Takumi's phone buzzed with a sudden notification from Hinata, making him lose his focus for a second.

* * *

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Try your best?_

 _Nah! Sometimes, you don't even **have** to try! __Whatever you were going through, you just always seemed to find a way out of it._ _And I think that's the coolest thing ever, bro._

* * *

Part of Takumi wanted to legitimately start crying on the spot—though Hinata was always cheesy, it still felt as if his overbearing sentiment was said in person.

* * *

 ** _(1) FujinGod_**

 _Hinata..._

 _Thank you. That means a lot._

 _I'll have to go for now, though._ _Try and get some sleep until I get back, okay?_

 _ **(1) TripleThreat**_

 _Aw, really? Okay..._

 _I'll see you later, Takumi!_ _I'll get a lot of sleep, just for you!_

 _ **(1) FujinGod**_

 _That's good to hear._

* * *

Takumi took the hairbrush and comb from his younger sister's hands after logging off from his phone, sitting on her bedside while she looked outward towards the wall. He felt her body relax when he raked through her hair with his fingers, going over it with a few strokes of the comb. He looked on in awe over how silky it felt.

"Your hair's been growing a little..."

Sakura perked up at her brother's words after momentarily spacing out, smitten with surprise. "H-Has it?"

Takumi had stopped combing around the nape of her neck, nodding in confirmation. "Have you thought about growing it out?"

"No...do you think I should?"

"Eh, I dunno. I bet that Leo kid would like it, though."

Takumi chuckled to himself as Sakura let out an unexpected squeak, holding her hands over her ears to hide the tinge of pink blossoming on the tips.

" _W-What?_ N-No, I doubt it..."

"Maybe."

"No..."

"C'mon, not even a _little?"_

" _Takumi_..." Sakura puffed out her cheeks in defiance while crossing her arms, ignoring her brother's growing smirk. "That's not very nice..."

"Sorry about that," he replied, although he wasn't the least bit guilty over it. "Can you at least fill me in on what happened afterward?"

She looked back at him as he finished brushing away at the tangles in her hair, throwing him a playful grin in return. "...I'll think about it."

Takumi's lips parted slightly upon the sight of her smile; much different than what he'd witnessed yesterday when he fought with Hinoka over a silly frog. It made him feel... _accomplished_. Like he'd done something right, for a change.

He could definitely get used to this, if it meant being able to see her smile once more.

* * *

As noon had finally hit, the Tokugawa family rested nicely in the living room and kitchen, talking quietly amongst themselves while Sumeragi held off on setting up the TV for the time being. While it was a temporary setback from _actual_ entertainment, no one seemed to mind it much.

Ryouma blabbered on and on about his painting to his mother, who shared his disappointed sentiment upon having to scrap one of his favorite pieces thanks to the carelessness of the moving van.

"I was still able to salvage most of Kagerou's face...it was the only part that didn't look like it got ran over by a truck."

Mikoto frowned, fiddling with a pitiful bowl of cereal filled with nothing but leftover milk with a spoon. "What a _shame_...should I phone in a complaint for you, Ryouma? All that hard work for nothing..."

Ryouma shook his head, gazing toward the floor. The _last_ thing he really needed was seeing his mother try to sue a subpar moving company. "No, I'm sure they didn't really mean to ruin it. I'll just make a new version."

Mikoto sighed, chuckling to herself. " _My_ , you say it like it's so simple..."

As they chatted, Hinoka hung back by the staircase, chating away to an old friend from high school who only called her because _"there was nothing else worth doing"._ He was a struggling poet delving in the art of haikus—but he was getting by, slowly but surely.

"That sounds... _pretty_ bland. Why don't you add in something else to make it pop?" She paused, scrunching up her face. "What do you mean, " _I wouldn't get it"?_ Please _. You're_ the one that doesn't get it..."

Their friendship was strange, but no one ever questioned it.

Meanwhile, Sakura and Takumi came down the stairs, greeting Ryouma, Sumeragi, and a rather energetic Mikoto in the kitchen. Sumeragi's gaze fell on Takumi a bit longer than he'd expected, looking away at last only when Ryouma had begun to inquire him about setting up the TV again.

"Oh _my_ , Sakura," Mikoto gushed, reaching for her youngest daughter's hand "Dressed up so soon?"

Sakura flinched under her giddy touch, pleasantly embarrassed—but she still found the time to reply with a quaint nod. "Y-Yeah...Hinoka and I are going to go out for a tour of the neighborhood...with one of the neighbors..." She explained nervously. Anything more, and she would've hid away from shyness.

But, as usual—it was hard to ever get like that around her mother. "How _wonderful!_ I'm sure you'll have a fantastic time!"

She was simply too positive for her own good.

"Yeah! I hope so.."

As if Mikoto had jinxed time herself, the startling sound of the doorbell echoed in Sakura's ears, making her tense up with sudden anxiety. The elder woman looked over and gasped, expecting it to be another lovely visit from Camilla.

Takumi internally dreaded the moment of truth waiting beyond the door, choosing instead to stay close by his father, siting right across from Ryouma.

Mikoto looked back to Sakura, grinning with curiosity. "Sakura, sweetie—do you think you could get the door for me?"

A part of her felt like disintegrating on the spot— _Me, getting the door?_ —such a thought had never crossed her mind before. She figured she wasn't old enough yet, since it was always either Ryouma or Hinoka chosen first to answer it. (Takumi would usually look in the peephole, and walk away just like that.)

She wasn't sure if she was up for disappointment, if Leo wasn't even behind the door. And even if it _was_ him, she couldn't guarantee her English would pull through properly in the middle of her jitteriness.

Yet even so, Leo was her friend now—and as Hinoka said the night before, there was no reason for her to be so scared around him. He understood her well enough, for the time being. What was there to be afraid of?

... _Everthing_.

After giving herself a small, short-lived pep talk in her head, Sakura nodded towards her mother—fully prepared.

"...Sure."

She turned on her heels and puffed out her chest, sucking in all the shyness away in the depths of her stomach. Nothing would stop her— _especially_ not today.

 _Oh_ , she was _ready_.

She opened the door, almost a little too quick, letting the adrenaline of her sudden excitement course her through an easy enough greeting.

"Good afternoon, Leo!" She chirps, bowing her head slightly. "How are you?"

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _...Silence_.

Nothing but _pure_ , _undeniable_ silence—it would've been a pretty nice response, if it wasn't so _unexpected_.

Her excitement depleted completely when she received nothing more than an uncomfortable cough in response.

It was _him_ , alright—but something was terribly off. Wasn't he excited too?

Sakura looked up, clearly confused, and a bit hurt too.

Leo stood right in front of her, hands glued behind his back while throwing her a sheepish smile that practically screamed _, "Help me."_

 _"H-Hello_ , Sakura..." He mumbled hesitantly, looking towards the floor of the porch. "I, _uh_...hope you didn't mind if I brought another participant along on our walk..."

 _I'm so sorry._

He gestured slowly to his left, hoping she'd at least get the hint by now.

Sakura's eyes widened like saucers when she suddenly took notice of the man right behind Leo, looking old enough to be his grandfather. (It was a _wonder_ she hadn't noticed him yet, really.) He easily towered over her and Leo both, giving off an aura that resembled that of a _demonic_ spirit sent to curse her for eternity.

 _"Good afternoon,"_ Was all he had said—but it was enough to make her blood run cold with fear.

"This is my father. He's, er, _very_ excited to meet you."

Sakura did a double take in her head, darting her eyes from Leo to the man, and back again. _F-Father?!_

 _Oh my gosh, this is bad._

 _This is very, very, **very** bad._

Her heart sank deep into the depths of her self-esteem—all the confidence that had been built up to the brim with her quiet words of assurance broke away, like a tower of Legos on the verge of self-destruction.

Even though she found it weird to compare her obvious fear to a bunch of building blocks, the effect was all the same. Her words slip out in sloppy stammers, desperate for at least some of them to make sense.

 _"O-Oh_...u-um... _right!_ T-That's _fine_ , that's fine..." Sakura nearly cursed herself for nearly forgetting to address Leo's father, feeling her heart pound with humiliation. "A-And, um, g-good... _good afternoon to you_ _too_ , sir! _Ha_..."

 _Breathe, breathe..._

Her body felt light, and terribly faint.

Ryouma and Takumi looked up as they watched their little sister tense up, sputtering out nonsense by the door. Takumi raised a confused brow, suddenly more suspicious than before. _"Wait_ , that's his _dad?_ Holy _shit..."_

Ryouma pinched his arm, ignoring the cry of pain that quickly ensued. "C'mon, Takumi, watch your mouth. It's not like you haven't seen him before."

Takumi blinked back utter shock while rubbing his arm. _"Excuse me?_ When have I ever seen a _creep_ like that?"

Ryouma gave him an all-knowing pat on the head in response. _You'll see_ , he seems to say.

From the corner of his eyes, Takumi could see his father stand up suddenly from the kitchen table—as if he'd seen some sort of ghost—but it seemed right on par with what Ryouma was referring to.

"Well, well..." He mutters under his breath. "Never thought I'd see that _rascal_ again..."


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

To be undoubtedly honest, Leo wasn't all too sure about what had ensued the moment Sakura allowed him and his father inside her house—all he can remember seeing is Sumeragi's glare, and the unusually condescending smirk ingrained deep in his face.

It was unlike all the other casual smiles and frowns he had gotten used to yesterday—normal expressions that had no real hidden meaning behind them.

The atmosphere had changed completely when he stepped inside, and god _forbid_ , Leo almost expected water to pour down on top of him from the door. (But of course, that was a sitcom thing. There was no way it actually happened in real life.)

Sumeragi waits until both men are completely in the living room, hands crossed over his arms in a way that forewarns Leo of the chaos that was to come. (Or not, hopefully.)

Sakura, Hinoka (who eventually hung up the phone with her friend), and Ryouma are all silent, not daring to speak out of turn while they all looked at Leo warily. Even _Takumi_ , who he thought wouldn't have cared at all, stared—pitying him from afar.

It had felt like he had gotten sucked straight into an old, stuffy courtroom, forced to accept all the bizzare, wandering stares sizing him up and down.

"It's been a while since we've talked last, _hasn't it?"_ Sumeragi finally began, blatantly ignoring Mikoto's hushed whispers to sit down. Her usual airiness is replaced with a strange silence—she waves to Leo, but barely showed any real interest in greeting his father. (Not that Garon particularly _cared_ , though.)

It only takes Leo about a couple seconds to realize that the elder man's glare isn't towards him—thank _god_ —but towards his own _father_. A chill runs down his spine as he felt Garon's calloused hand rest on his shoulder; a common gesture of his that always seemed to translate to, _"You **might** want to move out the way."_

He stepped a bit past Leo till he was front and center with the other man, chest puffed out as if he were standing in a boxing ring, ready to swing any minute.

"Since the _last_ time we've talked?" He asks back, clearly sarcastic. "Depends, really. I don't exactly remember _ever_ associating myself with an overgrown _hedgehog_."

The crease in Sumeragi's brow becomes even more evident as Garon laughed aloud, mimicking the action of flipping his hair; just like Camilla. "Your hair's so _disgustingly_ long now, you know. You'd probably be doing _everyone_ a favor by cutting it all off."

Leo, on the other hand, looked about a thousand shades paler than before. The only favor _he_ wanted was for Garon to drop the conversation _as soon as possible._

He wanted to say something fast— _"My apologies, he didn't really mean that!"_ —but Sumeragi beats him to it first. His perfect Sunday went downhill _real_ quick.

Sakura tried smiling at him when their eyes eventually met—but he could tell she was just as scared as he was. He wished he was stuck in another one of thoe sitcoms, so he could grab her hand and walk out without anyone really noticing, aside from the trail of canned laughter.

"Well, that would be rather unfortunate, don't you think?" Sumeragi's laugh seemed purely mechanical, enough to make Takumi shudder. "But, I think I'd rather look like a hedgehog than a living _fossil."_

Takumi held in a sputtering chuckle, held back only by Hinoka, who covered his mouth with her free hand. Mikoto frowned while raking her hand through Sakura's hair—distasted by his words. "Sumeragi..."

Garon waves the woman off, wiping a fake tear away. "His taunts don't bother me much, ma'am," He muttered. "Speaking of, though—I don't think we've ever met..."

Mikoto parted her lips slightly, _about_ to say something along the lines of a _proper_ greeting, but the words never came. "...I don't think we've met either," She replies, almost inaudible. "But I'd _love_ to get to know you, if that's okay with you..."

He laughed aloud, grinning from ear to ear. "Of _course_. A man has to know _all_ about the little side romances, right?"

"... _Side romances?"_

Nodding his head, Garon turned back to Sumeragi, seeing that his vigor had finally returned. Leo braced himself for another insult towards Sakura's father, almost certain that this was the last time he'd ever set foot in her house for a while.

"Well, well, Sumeragi. Good to know you finally ditched that old hag Ikona, huh?"

 _"Excuse_ me?"

Sumeragi slapped his hand down on the counter, making Sakura jump up in surprise. Mikoto mirrored Ryouma's own shock, looking as if her own heart had stopped on its own accord. Takumi glared daggers at Garon, and then to Leo–who promptly looked away almost instantly. He didn't really know this Ikona lady; but whoever she was, she seemed pretty important.

 _She can't be Sakura's mother...because Mikoto's there. Unless..._

"Garon, you've had _four_ wives already. What's _your_ excuse?"

 _"My_ excuse? None at all. At least they _all_ still love me."

"I'll have you know that Mikoto means more to me than all four of them _combined!_ How _dare_ you try and belittle that!"

The anger rising in his voice barely stops Garon, who keeps going for the sake of amusement. Leo made a mental bet with himself over how long it would've taken until his father ended up in the hospital.

"Oh, _joy!_ Look who's _finally_ using such _big_ words today!" He clapped as if Sumeragi were a mere preschooler, patting his head. "I'm so proud, you _wrinkly old fool."_

"Why, you _little_..."

Sumeragi yanked at Garon's collar until their noses were almost touching—murder fully etched in his eyes.

Ryouma and Hinoka stood up almost instantly when Sakura let out a squeak of fear—and for some reason, Leo had an awkward urge to run from his father's side just to hold her hand.

But he figured standing by Garon was better than getting socked in the face by Takumi.

"Sumeragi, _please_ sit down!" Mikoto's voice rang out in a helpless plea. "This isn't the time to fight..."

Though she tried her best to get through to him, Sumeragi had no desire to let go of Garon's collar–no matter how immature it looked from the outside.

"I'm. _Not_. Old." He spat, steely eyes boring holes into the other's head.

"Yes. You. _Are."_ Garon shoved him away without the slightest hint of a challenge, still laughing aloud like a madman while Mikoto frowned.

"My gods..."

* * *

Leo counted about twenty minutes so far. A new record for his father, if he even cared to keep count.

Sumeragi and Garon were still fighting, and nothing had changed. Had he went on his walk with Sakura and Hinoka, they could've already went around the block and back about three times.

Takumi had gotten an orange soda and a cup of diced fruit from the fridge, seeming to enjoy the quarrel as compared to his brother and sisters, who looked just as tired as Mikoto. (Ryouma made him share his fruit with him, though.)

Sumeragi circled around Garon with an intimidating glare, after having been recently bragged to about Xander.

Leo knew he could always speak with such confidence about his elder brother—he barely had any flaws, and never made any error in his choices. He made the rest of the family look like jokes, in all honesty.

But Ryouma's father was hardly convinced. "What _exactly_ does Xander have that Ryouma doesn't?"

"Let's see...a _brain_ , for starters."

Ryouma raised a brow, held down firmly by Hinoka. "Excuse me?"

Leo figured Ryouma would've teamed up with his father to beat the living snot out of Garon for the sake of revenge—but the sudden tears welling in his eyes changed his mind.

He looked like he was about to _cry_ on the spot.

"Hinoka's on the national volleyball team. Her grades are the best there is."

"Wow, I've never _yawned_ so much in my life." He ignored the girl's sudden grunt near the kitchen table. "Did you know that Camilla already has her own clothing line in the works? All her fabrics come straight from _Italy_ , mind you."

Leo sighed to himself. _India, Father. Not Italy._

Sumeragi shrugs, finding himself beat in the elder daughter standoff, while Ryouma raised his brows in sudden interest. (Tailoring clothes _was_ a challenging field in itself—he could give Garon's daughter _that_ much.) Clearing his throat, he prepared himself for another go.

"A nice fact, but it doesn't matter. Takumi won a poetry contest back in the fall. He's a _very_ talented writer, for your information."

Takumi's face blanched when his father smiled in his direction, hiding the more than evident blush bruising his cheeks pink. "D-Dad!" He stammered, flinching under Ryouma's pat on the back. "You _promised_ not to tell anyone that!"

His father shrugs back at him before winking. "But son, your writing is _so_ good. Let me recite something you wrote to me once..."

 _"N-No!_ Don't do it!"

Sumeragi cleared his throat again, much to his son's displeasure. " _Vibrant cherry blossoms lick the sky...cherishing the time that has yet to come by..."_ He looks towards Garon with an impish sneer on his face. "... _Standing under a throne of white...count the stars, for they've all come to light_..."

Takumi finds refuge in Hinoka's arms, fighting back the tempting urge to scream. Garon was pleasantly impressed, in all honesty—but of course, he'll never tell Sumeragi that.

"Well, at least the boy knows how to rhyme, unlike you..." He snickered to himself slowly before averting his gaze toward Leo, who hadn't said a single word the entire time.

 _"Leo_ , however..."

Garon paused, resting a hand on his youngest son's shoulder in thought. Leo looked right back at him with a hopeful smile, awaiting his chance to finally be bragging material— _Say something cool about me, Father! Tell them all about my record of straight A's for eight years in a row!_

Though his own talents were rather boring, he hoped it was enough for his father to get a good idea of what to say. But unlike Hinoka and her exquisite skills in telepathy, the message flies right over Garon's head.

"...He...does _something_ , I guess."

In the midst of Takumi's sudden burst of laughter, Leo's heart sank further than the Titanic—hitting rock bottom deep in his gut.

It was only then that he learned that some things were _probably_ better left unsaid.

* * *

"Camilla...are you _sure_ I should be here?"

Elise bit her lip when her sister's eyes glance toward her own—emitting her usual mischief from behind a new coat of mascara and eyeliner. "Of _course_ , darling," she drawls, dabbing her cheeks with a light powder. "I couldn't bring myself to leave you with Leo and that _insufferable_ man all day."

"Insufferable?" Elise frowned for a moment, slightly confused. "You don't mean _Dad_ , do you?"

A low, bitter laugh escapes her lips—and after looking in the mirror for the slightest second, she decides another good coat of red is in order. "Who else could I be talking about? Of course it's _him_..."

Camilla's eyes flash with a hidden annoyance as she combed through her hair one last time, opening the car door slightly with her free hand. Elise sat back in her seat, somewhat unsatisfied by her response.

She had rode along with her sister to her job interview for the sake of getting away from the toxic atmosphere she'd accidentally created after ratting Leo out about Sakura. For the whole ride, she did nothing but sing songs on the radio to the best of her ability, mimicking deep, dangerously low voices, and painfully shrill ones. _Lost in Thoughts All Alone_ played on the radio more than enough times—along with Elise's frequent pleas for concert tickets to see Azura Lazuli in person.

It wasn't until they had pulled up to the restaurant Camilla had in mind that reality came back to slap her in the face—was she really meant to be here, alongside a twenty-year-old woman looking for a job? She wasn't even close to getting into that stuff yet.

"I see..." She finally replied, still glancing at her sister ever so often.

After she set the compact of makeup back in her bag, Camilla peered forward to see if anyone important was inside the restaurant—mindless chatter wouldn't do, unless it was a greeting or two.

 _"Alright_ , Elise," She murmured, suddenly imagining herself in a spy movie. "I think our cue is about to come in a couple moments. Are you ready?"

Elise shrugs, plastering on a fake grin for sake of time. "I think so."

Camilla frowned at her obvious lack of enthusiasm, knowing something was up. A happy Elise was what the entire family was pretty much used to at this point. Anything besides that called for serious attention.

"What's the matter with you?" She asked, poking the side of her cheek. It deflated fast against her fingers, like a popped ballon. "Something on your mind?"

Elise fidgeted nervously in her seat, wondering if it was such a good idea to say her thoughts out loud. "I was _going_ to ask about why you called Dad insufferable..."

Her head tilted to the side. "What about it?"

"...Is it because he didn't say anything when you told him about your interview?"

Camilla fell silent when she nearly stumbled out of the car—the sudden, blustery breeze lapping up the hem of her dress. She smiles at Elise for only a second; knowing it wouldn't have bothered to work anyway.

Even if she covered it up with a smile and a flick of her hair, Elise knew her sister well enough to know exactly which ones were real or fake. There was no point in trying to keep it a secret, as her expression already gave away the notion of even having one.

She waited until Elise had gotten out of the car completely, before murmuring her response in a low whisper. "..I just wanted to hear something _nice_ from him. You know what I mean, Elise?"

Her words are met with a solitary nod.

"Of course, I can tell he's been disappointed in me. Xander's all the way in New York with a diploma on the line; and I'm sitting here without a job..." She suddenly motions to her clothes, hiding away her frown with a forced smile. "But perhaps he's used to it. The constant failure of a daughter who only uses her money towards nice clothes, and nothing else."

Elise's eyes widen with surprise. "But what about your fashion stuff? I think your designs are _awesome!"_

"Ah..." Camilla's hand falls onto her sister's shoulder—but no eye contact is made. "That's only something I do to make sure Mother is proud of me. Without it, I don't know if she'd even bother batting an eyelash in my direction..."

Her words startle her younger sister from even speaking—as if hinting at such a thing was a sin in itself. "That _can't_ true! Auntie Marzia loves you! I know she does!"

Camilla chucked sadly, laying a soft hand over her thigh. "Oh, I _know_ that much. But I mean it in a professional sense." Her eyes shift uncomfortably onto the ground, face almost hidden by her hair. "I bet Leo'll get a job by the time I get accepted. Maybe even _you!"_

Though it was meant as a simple joke, Elise was far from laughing. She grabbed her sister's hand in hers, before looking up to meet her eyes dead in the center.

"Camilla...I think you're selling yourself short."

She was quiet at first, but kept going once she saw Camilla's eyes gloss over in sudden curiosity. "So _what_ if you don't have a job yet? It's not a bad thing, as long as you keep looking for one. Maybe Dad didn't say anything because he didn't want to get your hopes up!"

Camilla frowned for a moment. "Because he _knew_ I wouldn't get the job?"

Elise shook her head instantly. "No, not at _all_. I think it's his way of saying not to get too confident. You wouldn't have wanted him to say something like, _"Good for you, Camilla! I'm sure you'll get the job!"_ Because then..."

Realization washed over Camilla's face as she snapped her fingers—the perfect " _Aha!"_ moment.

"...If I don't get the job...it would all be for nothing."

 _"Yeah!"_ Elise smiled, elated that her words found their way through. "And honestly, I don't really see _why_ they keep rejecting you. You're a great person, and you mean the world to me. You _don't_ have to compare yourself to Xander all the time like Leo does. You're both great people, just the way you are..."

Camilla's eyes welled up with a stinging sensation of tears—but she wiped them away quickly, in fear of ruining her complexion. Elise the Wise had spoken once again to her, spreading her usual wisdom with a great big smile beaming across her face.

"Elise, you sweet child..." Camilla sniffed a couple times, barely able to continue. "...You're making my mascara run..."

"Aw, but you made it look so cool! Come on, I'll help you!"

"W-Wait, not _now!_ I look _gross!"_

"Nuh- _uh!_ You're pretty!" Elise's smile only widened when Camilla laughed aloud again, still sounding like a set of jingle bells on Christmas morning.

The sound itself is familiar to a passerby making his rounds in delivering Sunday flowers—looking up in disbelief upon seeing Elise dab her fingers messily at her sister's face.

He hadn't remembered hearing it in a long while, as he never had enough time to talk to her while away in Europe over the course of the year; his mother was on her last tour, and giving away his identity as the son of a past idol couldn't be done on the fly.

But for once in his life, he's feeling pretty lucky over how fate—his _dear_ old friend, that one—liked to keep things all the more interesting.

Lazward slicks his hair back and pops a broken mint hidden in the crevices of his pockets in his mouth, face scrunched up in disgust over spitting out a ball of lint caught in his teeth. Though the flowers were meant for another customer as part of a set, he breaks off a few good roses and holds them gently by the stem.

 _"Camilla_ , darling," He drawls, conjuring up a flirtatious grin. "Is that you?"


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

"I-I'm, uh, sorry about all _this_..."

Sakura perks up at Leo's sudden words with a light gasp, facing him with a hesitant gaze. Her lips part slowly when he slicks back his hair with the shaky tips of his fingers—revealing a reddening forehead etched with sweat and exhaustion. (Including eyebrows that were _rather_ pleasing to look at; but Sakura kept that thought to herself.)

His eyes droop with a hint of melancholy, watching only the sidewalk ahead of him and the dusty tracks made from his shoes.

There had been a massive change of plans once Mikoto had finally gotten through to Sumeragi, deliberately—and almost _literally_ —kicking him out of the house until he and Garon calmed down. Being that there was nowhere else to go, the two men had decided to tag along with Leo, Sakura, and Hinoka on their long awaited walk that should've started a _hell_ of a lot earlier.

Instead of the cool breeze that came ever so often at noon, the one o'clock slot consisted of nothing but the sun, and the sweltering heat that came along with it. Leo was thankful enough to have been wearing white that day, or else he would've been _pooling_ with sweat on the way back home.

He's thinking of ways to apologize properly to Sakura, for tarnishing her weekend so terribly. First with scaring her, then putting her right smack in the middle of a dad battle—things that would've never happened if he hadn't been so careless.

"Oh, it's _fine_ , Leo!" she replied, still somewhat cheery. "It's not your fault...s-so...you don't _have_ to apologize..."

He finds himself smiling only seconds after hearing her speak—ut Hinoka's firm pat on the back scares him from uttering a proper reply. (He could _definitely_ tell that she was on the volleyball team now.)

"You _really_ don't," she says, completely unaware of the pain crossing his features. "Besides, it's really _them_ that started it, anyway."

 _"R-Right..."_

Sumeragi and Garon were still bickering while as Leo tried his best to ignore them, dreading the rest of the afternoon that was to come. (The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was on a field trip in elementary school, stuck in a group with flat out hooligans.)

"Y'know, we used to be _such_ good friends in school, Garon. What happened to you?"

Leo's father scoffs, as if Sumeragi had just told the biggest lie in the world. "I _grew_ up, _obviously_." He spat begrudgingly. "I _also_ happened to realize how much of a _fool_ I was for ever being friends with you."

"That so? It seems to have been the same thing for me."

One glance to his right, and Leo could've sworn he saw his father flinch from Sumeragi's words.

 _They were friends?_

Hinoka and Sakura seemed to share his shock too— _clearly_ , they hadn't heard of this either.

"I mean, _really_..." Sumeragi continues, despite Garon's silence. "... _I_ thought you were a nice enough guy. You'd _rarely_ talk at school–and when you did, you'd stutter and stammer like the Earth was about to _collapse_."

Leo raised a brow in disbelief. If there was anyone who stuttered as bad as Sumeragi made it sound, it _definitely_ wasn't Garon.

But his father didn't seem to deny anything, much to his surprise.

"What exactly does my old stammer have anything to do with the _"nice guy"_ point? There you go again, with your usual _stupidity_."

Sumeragi rolled his eyes. "At least _I'm_ not stupid enough to make a fool out of myself to impress a girl."

"Let's think back to who Katerina rejected _first_ , fool. I can't even _begin_ to imagine what Xander would've looked like if it happened..."

"I'm glad Ikona had enough sense to stay away from _you_."

Sakura pursed her lips, nervously stuffing her hands in her pockets. "This is getting awkward..."

Hinoka let out an irritated sigh, patting her sister on the head. "Tell me about it. At this rate, they'll probably start fighting over whose wife was better."

Leo snickered at her little joke, thinking of something cool to add onto it. (Of course, he _couldn't_ —but the thought still count as something.)

Hinoka glanced around the neighborhood a bit more, before settling her sights on a large gated area up ahead. Behind the wrought iron fences were nothing but massive fields of green, filled with numerous flowerbeds and nosy little cranes tiptoeing along the stream nearby.

"What's that place over there, Leo?"

He raised his head up at the elder girl's words, distracted from absentmindedly gazing at the shine in Sakura's hair. "Oh, that place..."

He pointed a wary finger to a long stretch of houses, leading up to an even larger one right smack in the center—behind it was a pool, and two separate playgrounds. "It's the community center. People only really come here to swim, since the park's kinda... _bad."_

Sakura and Hinoka both laid their hands on the gates closest to them, gazing at the ominous graveyard of worn down seesaws, and slides caked with dirt. An old, battered sign reading _"From Ages 6-12"_ hung by a mere screw.

"Pretty cryptic, if you ask me..." Hinoka murmured. "Was it always like this?"

Like hell if Leo remembered—he was only seven the last time he had played here. "I don't think so," he replied. "I'm sure it looked nicer back then..."

"You know who else looked nicer back then?" Garon's voice cut into Leo's trailing sentence without so much as a heads up. "Sumeragi. Until he became started growing out that _hideous_ mane of his."

"You don't even have any hair left to spare. Don't bring me into this."

 _Here we go again..._

Garon stabbed his finger into Sumeragi's chest, glowering. "I do have hair, you incompetent fool. Did the doctor forget to have your eyes checked last week?"

"Last time I checked, My eyes were up here, _grandpa_."

"...You _better_ take that back."

" _Never_."

Minute by minute, the two men start bickering over and over again—to the point where they start walking backward from where they had started before. Hinoka tries to bring them back to their senses with flailing arms— _"Dad, you're going the wrong way!"—but her efforts are completely wasted._

They were already gone, past an entire block in less than five minutes.

"Hey, I'm gonna catch up to them before they start wrestling on someone's lawn." A sigh escapes her lips, as if she's used to being Mikoto's personal proxy.

Right as Leo was about to follow in suit, he feels a hand tug on his shirt—a light tug, as soft as a feather. Sakura stands right behind him, lips quivering in wait. He had no idea what had got her so worked up, as her legs grew stiff.

 _"H-Hey_ , Leo...can I ask you something?"

His heart starts pounding for no reason at all. Pure adrenaline takes control of his response—but his nervousness still pulls through. "...What is it?"

Her cheeks color into a perfect pink, matching the shade of her hair—Leo thought it was adorable, but he kept quiet all the same. "W-Well, uh...I noticed how those clouds up there _kinda_ looked like you..."

Leo looked up when her arm stood outstretched in the pale blue sky–and soon enough, he sees a lump of white resembling his own hair, jetting slowly across the atmosphere.

"Huh...it kinda does. Nice observation."

"Ah, thank you!" Her lips curl in a quiet laugh, which set his heart aflutter. "...Would you like to watch the clouds with me? _J-Just_ for a little bit!"

Leo stared at her a little while longer—taking in the spark in her eyes, and the delicate tinge of hopefulness in her smile.

The most _beautiful_ smile in the world.

 _Of course_ , he thinks in his head.

"I'd love to."

* * *

From the minute her eyes fall onto the bundle of red roses in Lazward's hands, Camilla's chest flutters with an unsettling thrum; nearly convinced that what she was seeing was only a mere illusion.

But unfortunately, she can't mistake the mischief hidden in his grin for anyone else's–she's seen it too many times in the past to ignore it. Lazward was a man she could _never_ forget, even after a year. Though she's not sure on how to feel entirely, his presence was both a refresher and a burden she couldn't describe all too well yet.

Camilla stood up from Elise and smiled sweetly in his direction, taking the flowers he so willingly offered to her into her own hands. They quiver only slightly when his fingers linger on hers a little too long—as if savoring her touch for the first time in centuries.

"Lazward," she replies, noticing he had snuck a single rose in her hair—a good fashion choice, in her opinion. "It's a _pleasure_ to see you again!"

 _A real pleasure, indeed._

Camilla's smile suddenly falters when his eyes widen from the greeting; his cheeks were flushed pink, while her's stayed the same. Guilt crosses over her eyelids—but of course, Lazward was too hung up with the fact that a girl had willingly talked to him to notice.

Especially when that girl was his old _girlfriend_.

"And the same to _you_ , dear—but that's obvious enough, right?" He smiled once, before turning his undivided direction to Elise. She clung to Camilla's leg like a lost—yet _fiercely_ loyal—pup, eyeballing Lazward as if he were one of Keaton's nasty old chew toys.

"It's great to see you again too, Elise! How's your father?"

Her words cut through his like crystals of ice—clean and precise. "Dad's fine," is all she dares to say, and nothing more. Even though it wasn't normally in her nature to be so cold, Elise can't help but feel as if there's something off about Lazward this time around.

"What brings you here, Lazward? I thought you were still on your trip."

 _For good._

Lazward threw Camilla a snarky grin, hardly effected by the sarcastic undertone in her voice. "I came back a couple weeks ago, actually," he explained. "You seem pretty busy yourself, though..."

"Well, yes. I'm about to go to a job interview in a couple minutes..."

His eyes grew wide. "A job interview? Whoa, that's pretty serious..." He brings a hand to his chin, as if contemplating her appearance.

"Yes, last time _I_ remembered. This might be the one, but I'm not sure..."

"I see, I see..."

Elise gripped her hand tightly as Camilla sighed, hopeful on never letting go.

Lazward saw this, clear as day; and immediately, thought up of the perfect opportunity. "I'd figure you'd need a _babysitter_ , don't you think?"

The elder girl's eyebrows quirk in pleasant surprise. "Hm? Oh, you don't _have_ to do it."

"There's no need!" Lazward pushed some hair behind his ear, pointing pridefully to himself. "I happen to know of an ice cream shop near here. I can take Elise off your hands while you go on your interview, if you want."

Camilla paused, thinking for a moment. "Well, I wouldn't want to give you too much trouble, Lazward. You _did_ just get here not too long ago..."

"It won't be trouble at all!" Lazward fanned her hesitation away, beaming with a rare confidence Camilla had only known while they were still dating. "I happen to just be on a delivery run right now— _plenty_ of time left for you to do your thing in there. We _could_ even _toast_ to your little victory over some _nice_ tea..."

 _Ah, there it is._ She smirked while twisting some of her hair around her finger. Catching up on the good old days was the kind of thing Camilla was used to seeing in TV. Though she was more of a coffee person, tea didn't sound so bad either. (And if she _did_ get the job, she was definitely going to make him pay for it, too.)

"Of course, of course. What do you say, Elise?"

The younger girl takes a minute to respond, taking her choices very seriously. She didn't want to make Camilla worry about her during her interview, but she also didn't want to stick around with _Lazward_ either.

"...I'll go." She replied, hiding her distaste with a gentle smile. _But only because Camilla needs to focus on her job._

Lazward's eyes light up upon hearing Elise's answer, looking as if he were happy enough to do cartwheels in the middle of the street. (Because that was _always_ what people did when they were happy, according to Elise.)

" _Fantastic_! I won't let you down, Camilla."

"Ah, I hope so," Camilla drew a quick smile, internally exhausted over the hundreds of times she's done it already. (She still had to be somewhat enthusiastic on her interview.) "I'll see you both later, then."

 _Good luck, Elise._

"Good luck, Camilla!"

Her sister waved once, before disappearing behind the doors of the restaurant.

Elise looked back to Lazward as he slicked his hair back even farther, dreading the fact that they were now alone. _Yayyyyy_.

Her eyes narrow with the slightest hint of suspicion—because of the fact that he wore an expression that _screamed_ mischief, she figured getting ice cream was far from his real plan.

"Well, Elise, I guess it's just _you_ and _me_ now," Lazward's voice seems almost proud of that fact, creeping even further into her suspicion. "While I was away with my mother, I've been learning a few magic tricks, just for you _and_ your sister."

 _Magic?_

Elise raised a brow when Lazward holds out his hand, eager to have her take it.

Lazward's hands weren't like any other man's, as Elise soon realized—while most looked calloused and hard like her father's, or bony and almost slender like Leo's, Lazward's was smooth and soft. Almost like they weren't even _real_.

They smelled like the springtime breeze; an obvious indicator of heavy amounts of lotion, but she had to digress. Elise wouldn't have been very surprised if she ever saw him on the soap commercials, drenching a load of dish detergent on a sponge.

"What kind of tricks?" She asks, placing her own hand delicately in his—almost like a princess, accepting the hand of her prince. "You're not gonna do anything weird, right?"

Lazward laughed, covering one of her ears with his free hand. The slip of paper held right between his fingers nearly fall a onto the ground.

"Of course not!" He chided, clicking his tongue. "I only figured it right to give you and Camilla something special, after _all_ this time."

Lazward's eyes grow soft at the mention of her elder sister's name, rolling off his tongue like honey dripping from a jar. (To a girl Camilla's age, it would've made them swoon; but since Elise wanted to keep her promise to her father, she barely reacts to it.)

" _Okay_...is it money?"

Elise hadn't planned on it sounding like a joke (she was _dead_ serious, after all), but she didn't mind hearing Lazward's laugh once more. It's the kind of laugh that makes hearts flutter, and makes smiles crack wide open—kind of like Leo's, when he put in enough effort.

" _Believe me_ , Elise, I would've _loved_ to give you money...but unfortunately, I don't get paid till later."

 _Bummer_.

"Have you ever head of Azura Lazuli, Elise?"

She nodded her head almost instantly—who _hadn't_ heard of her was the real question. "Mhm! She's the _best_ singer ever! I know _all_ her songs, too!" She replied as a matter-of-factly. _I'm her biggest fan._

"That's fantastic! I'm sure you'd love to have these, then..."

He removes his hand from her ear and opens his palm, watching her eyes bulge in mere shock over the two slips of paper unfurling themselves into the open.

 _Concert tickets._

"...Oh my _gosh_...who'd you have to kill to get these?"


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

While Camilla left for a job interview and left Elise _pretty_ occupied with Lazward, Leo took pleasure in watching the clouds, dancing so beautifully across the sky on Sunday afternoon.

He was watching them with _Sakura_ , who had surprised him so by proposing the idea from out of the blue (not that he was particularly complaining or anything.)

Leo would've _liked_ to call it a date, from the bottom of his heart—but he knew it was just his adrenaline talking. Any other person—a _normal_ one at that—would call it _sightseeing_. Sky gazing. _Cloud_ gazing. Or, all of the above.

Under the comforting shade of a large oak tree stretching its voluminous shadow across the grass, Sakura sat beside Leo on pure, lush green—just a few feet away from the graveyard park looking as if it came straight out of a horror film. Though she's quiet and almost unmoving, he can still hear her breathing.

It's slow and steady, almost _straining_ to be heard. The sides of her forehead were getting messy with sweat; but she didn't seem to notice. Sakura's eyes were too immersed in the clouds to care much at all.

They were searching, _constantly_ searching, for abnormalities within the sky—clouds that looked like her friends, her family, and people she'd only met in a day's time. In Japan, when she was nothing but a mere toddler, Sumeragi would take her outside, just to stare at the sky. He'd ask her what she saw, and she'd say so, after some time.

Abstract things, like swirls and squiggles, became faces—faces of _humans_ , _dragons_ , and _giants_. They'd take shape as time went on, turning into the people she knew, and the people she'd soon meet. Hana and Tsubaki were once in the clouds (way back when she didn't know who they were at _all),_ represented by snowman-like figures holding a sword and a spear on a winged horse.

It was as if they were all apart of some huge, moving panorama, waiting patiently on Sakura to finally discover them.

"That one up there reminds me of your sister...the one with the purple hair."

Leo hummed momentarily in thought, seeing white silhouettes of long, billowy hair within the wispy currents of Sunday clouds. When he closed his eyes, he could see Camilla herself smile at him, mouthing something along the lines of, _"Kiss her already."_

 _"I-I_ can see it...you've got a knack for this, Sakura," he replied, ignoring the voice nagging endlessly in his head.

The whites of her eyes grow wide when she looks back at him, shocked at the compliment. "You think so?"

He nodded in response, feeling his eyes lower. "Definitely. It's pretty impressive, actually."

Sakura held back a soft gasp, enlightened by his compliment in ways that she couldn't even describe."T-Thank you..."

Her eyes start to wander aimlessly when he smiles back—clamminess building up in her hands. _"U-Um_...do you mind if I lay down for a bit? My back sorta hurts..." (It wasn't hurting a bit, in all honesty—but Leo didn't have to know that.)

He patted the space next to him in a gentlemanly fashion, making sure to leave enough room. "Be my guest."

She nodded ever so timidly while relaxing herself onto the dry grass beneath her, not minding its prickly surface. For a while, she lies contently on her back, face still stuck on the clouds.

Leo can tell she's nervous, however, for her chest rises uncomfortably, waiting for the inevitable. (Whatever _that_ was.)

A wall of silence forms halfway through another display of clouds rounding about the hemisphere—Sakura bit down on her lip to get rid of the shyness clogging her throat from speaking, and Leo simply fought over himself for something to say, having too many drafts in his head to choose a good one.

Sakura finally beats him to it, however, swallowing up the last of her fears to at least say _something_. "...To be honest..." She began, quiet at first. "...I kinda wanted to spend my day like _this_. Where it's... _quiet."_

She turned to Leo upon finishing, expectant on meeting his eyes.

He meets her expectations in a state mixed of both embarrassment and bewilderment. "...You did?" He asked, pleasantly surprised. (Any girl that wanted to spend even a second with him was great, in his opinion.)

" _Mhm_. It's nice to get away from all the _drama_ , ever so often." Her eyes glance over to the open space from beyond where she lay, but they quickly centered themselves back on Leo. "And...I wanted to get to know you a bit more."

"Really?" Though he's flattered, he can't help but laugh in spite of it all. "Sometimes, I don't even think I know _myself_. I don't really do much of anything, after all." _Just like Father said._

Sakura shot up the minute Leo finished his sentence, startling him for a moment. "That _can't_ be true!" She retorted, "I-I...I'm sure you do _lots_ of things..."

Her hands grip his shoulders in a way that reminds him of Elise—whenever he needed a good wake up call into reality, he could always depend on her to knock some form of sense into him.

But Sakura _definitely_ wasn't Elise; and he never thought her grip could be so _strong_. (Maybe Hinoka was rubbing off on her.)

"I appreciate the compliments, but I doubt I deserve them."

She's aware of the obvious hurt hidden in his voice, reminding her of no one other than Takumi. Like her mother and father, Sakura wasn't prepared on letting him lose hope so easily. "W-Well, _look_ , Leo. I _know_ I don't know you very well...but I can tell you're a great person...some just haven't seen it yet."

Another round of butterflies burst wildly in his stomach, spawning a crescendo of flushed cheeks to streak across his face. Making Leo unbelievably happy wasn't as hard as he made it out to be—a pinch of encouragement, a cup of motivation, and a tablespoon of positivity was all he really needed. Elise and Camilla usually made the recipe well, but Sakura had taken it to a whole _new_ level.

She added happiness, and comfort, and _love_. Things that he never thought about thoroughly until now. He mumbled out his gratitude in short stammers, messing up on nearly every word. "T-That...means a _lot_ to me. But..." His eyes lower to his hands, keeping his voice even. "How do you know?"

Sakura seemed like an entirely different person when she looked him in the eyes again—blooming with assured confidence. "I can just tell, I guess."

A smirk finds its way to Leo's face when she smiles once more. "What, you read palms or something?"

He meant it as a joke, but her thoughts didn't seem to follow. "W-Well, only a _little_. I'm not the best at it..."

A surprised chill runs down Leo's spine, while his hands quivered with sudden anticipation. He still remembered the sensation of feeling her touch only slightly when she gave him the overalls, the shockwaves of surprise from before almost reviving themselves over the excitement of feeling them again.

 _Jesus, calm down._

"...Do you think you could try and read mine?"

The gentlest of smiles crosses Sakura's face, making him grin. "I'll try my best."

Leo turned on his side and extended her arm out to reach Sakura's own, spreading out his hand so that every line and crease was visible enough for her to see. Sakura's smile turned into a strange, giddy smirk, which made him nearly break out in laughter. She was so _excited_ , over something as boring as his hands.

"Your hands are very pretty, Leo..."

Sakura touched his fingers with a delicate flair, finding beauty even in its bony joints. She marveled at how slender each one was, looking as if it had come straight out of a painting in a museum.

Leo, meanwhile, felt his cheeks inflame, almost to the point where the even the tips of his ears aren't safe from the embarrassment shaking up his nerves. He mumbles out a shaky _"T-Thank you...",_ but was internally jumping for joy on the inside.

He's trying to count all the heartbeats he's skipped in the time she held his hand, still caressing his palm as if it were a soft blanket. Minutes pass, and she's _still_ holding onto it.

"Now, let me see..."

Sakura traced a cool, slender finger over the first crease in his hand right below his middle finger, pursing her lips upon stopping at the edge of his palm. Chills ran up Leo's arms as she soon pressed two fingers over where she had stopped before—thinking long and hard.

"You're rational, yet considerate..." She murmurs, reaching to the next groove. "And you're very creative, too. Sometimes, you're a bit insecure over what people think of you..."

"In what way?"

Silence lingers even longer as she's processing her thoughts together. "You want to be recognized...for whatever reason it may be. You feel as though only a few people will understand you...so gaining the trust of another is not always easy."

He knew he should've taken her words with a grain of salt—but her accuracy hit the mark in ways that he could only fathom in the phosphenes.

"You got _all that_ from looking at my hand? Incredible..."

Sakura blushed while he stared at her in awe, hiding the prideful tinge in her voice. "Well, it's simple enough if you read enough articles on it. I just happened to remember which was which..."

"Still, though! I think that's amazing."

 _"O-Oh_...thank you..."

They stared at each other longingly, as if they were both painting hanging on the exquisite walls of the Louvre. To Leo, Sakura was a beauteous landscape of falling petals, brushing across his face delicately in the fields. (And to her, he was an elegant portrait of a self-righteous Prince from the seventeenth century, eyes glowing with valiance under the glare of the sun.)

For a moment, all Leo can hear is the constant beat of his heart, while his eyes wander curiously to her lips. Camilla, in her heavenly glow within his mind, echoes _"Kiss her!", over_ and _over_ again, lulling him even closer than usual.

Everything around him feels fuzzy and bleak, except Sakura herself.

" _Hey, Leo..."_

He stopped himself midway in his trance, admiring the loveliness of her face up close.

"What is it?"

She bit her lips nervously when all she can process are his eyes melting into her own. Her words come out shaky and quiet at first, but it picked up towards the end.

"I'm glad we're friends..." She murmurs. "A-And...I hope I can spend more time with you _and_ your family." She kindly left out _"But, mostly you,"_ deciding to save it for another time.

Leo, on the other hand, could feel his lips curl into a beauteous smile, soaking up her every word. His inner Camilla's request would have had to wait for another day.

He had no desire to rush anything at all—for the knowledge of knowing that she understood him as he was turned out to be good enough for him.

After all, he still had all summer to bring his feelings to light; but until then, Leo wanted nothing more than to leave his friendship the way it was.

And by the way Sakura looked at him, he could tell she felt the same way.

Time passed even more, until Leo felt the heat really get to him. His hair starts to stick to his forehead like glue, meshed up so far that it looked like he'd dipped his head in a tub of water. His throat began feeling unpleasantly parched, much to his displeasure.

 _Summer heat,_ he thought to himself. _Nice timing._

"Hm...we should probably get back now. It's getting pretty hot outside."

Sakura blanched at the realization after spacing out for a bit, looking down at her wrist in worry. (Even though her "watch" was practically non-existent.)

"O-Oh, you're _right!"_ She stood up without a second thought, brushing herself off. "We came from the left, I think..."

"Yep. All we have to do now is get a move on."

He extended his hand out to Sakura once he stood up to her level, awaiting for her to follow earnestly. (And then they could _frolic_ back together on the way home–a perfect end to a love story, no?)

...It's not until he sees her bewildered expression that he realizes what he's done.

 _"I-I_ am _so_ sorry," he sputtered, practically slapping his hand down to his side. His heart beat faster than he could count, burrowing itself in humiliation. "T-That... _that_ wasn't meant to be..."

Sakura held up her hands in alarm as if trying to calm him down, laughing sheepishly. _"N-No! It's okay!_ It's okay..." She extends her own hand out to him, offering some form of comfort. _"H-Here_ , you can take it!"

"No, _really!"_ He stepped away slightly, fearing for the worst. "You _don't_ have to hold my hand...I was just being _stupid_ , as usual..."

"You _aren't_ stupid! Don't call yourself that..."

"But I didn't even ask...shouldn't someone have enough common sense to ask?"

"...It doesn't matter to me."

 _Let me hold your hand._

Leo hesitated a bit longer, deciphering words left unspoken in the vast maze of Sakura's eyes. And slowly but surely, he starts to understand. She wasn't going to change her mind one _bit_.

After heaving a hesitant sigh, he finally caved in, taking baby steps until he felt the coast was clear. (Even though it was clear the entire time.) Palms touch, and fingers entwine. The bases of their hands are so close that the warmth in between is shared— completely one.

It's a nice feeling, on _such_ a nice sunny day.

They both promised each other to never tell of what happened at all—

Until the time was _perfectly_ right.

* * *

 **This chapter was more Leo/Sakura centric—but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!**

 **Thank you for _alllll_ the support so far; it _seriously_ means a lot to me. (We also seem to be close to that 100 review milestone...jesus christ.)**

 **So as thanks (as if I hadn't said it enough), I've decided to host some writing requests for the time being—the maximum I'll take is _thirty_ , (Don't worry, it usually doesn't take me _that_ long to write, and I want to get around to a good majority of people) and slots'll be open till they're full. They can be any genre, and can be centered around any character from any FE game—but Awakening and Fates are the ones I'm most familiar with. (Just be _VERY_ specific in what you want!) If you're interested, send me a request through either a review or a PM.**

 **Take care!**


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

"Okay, let's see here...Camilla Cecilia Emillia DuBois... _whoa!"_

Amazement spills all over his face while he reads excitedly over her information as if it were a new, juicy novel; a good sign, according to Camilla. She fanned herself glamorously with a complimentary fan towards her forehead, sunglasses perched delicately upon her hair.

She was _killing_ the performance, and she hadn't even started batting her eyelashes yet.

"That's a _pretttty_ long name, sister. A nice one, too! All those _-ila's_ and _-ilia's_ might as well be a giant tongue twister."

She laughs, no more than a chuckle. "Oh, _trust_ me, sir. My elder brother's name is much longer than that. Would you like to hear it?"

The man sitting in front of her casts a heartfelt grin in her direction, perching both legs on top of his desk like a movie star.

Aside from an ivory white suit that reminded Camilla of a boiled egg, he wore his hair in a high ponytail that reached to his shoulders—but only moments after meeting him, it was as if his hair tie had never existed in the first place. (Camilla never thought she'd like a man with long hair so _much_. It just looked so _silky_ , and smooth, like Ryouma's.)

Her eyes drift at the thought of running her hands through his thorns of brown hair, until the owner's chipper voice chatters away in her ears. "Aw, I _wish_ I could!" He chirps, waving papers around to and fro. "But we have an interview to get through, right?"

Camilla wondered why he sounded like an exhilarated high schooler, but she decided to save the thought for another time. For now, she kept her eyes on the _real_ prize.

" _Right_ you are, sir. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"You _bet_ we are! How old are you, Miss DuBois?" He sat his head on top of his hands and leaned forward, resembling a woman getting ready to hear the latest gossip heard around the world.

Camilla couldn't lie and say she wasn't digging the attention at all. "Well, I turned twenty-two last November—and, I currently attend the University of South Florida."

"Those are the...Bulls, right? I'm more of a _Seminoles_ person, but I guess it's all about the preference. You do online courses or something?"

"Mhm." She twirled around a strand of her hair for good measure, only now remembering the lovely rose Lazward left in her hair. "I'm in my sophomore year, at the moment."

"Nice, nice! That's real good— _spiffy_ , like the hipsters call it!"

Camilla held back a surly grin. _I wonder what kind of hipsters you know..._

"Tell me a bit about yourself, aside from the stuff we've already covered."

On cue— _finally_ —Camilla cleared her throat, preparing for another display of her well revered acting. "Of course." She leaned forward, letting her perfume waft graciously over in his direction.

"Well, Mr. Izumo..."

 _My name is Camilla DuBois, but you know that already, don't you? Oh, silly me~!_

 _I'm half Italian, with a pinch of French. My father is a Frenchman, while my mother shares the other. She happens to have made your suit, now that I think about it..._

 _I live with my father, and two siblings—one sister, and one brother. They're both adorable, mind you. They make life so worth living, you know what I mean? (_ _I also have an elder brother, but he lives a lot further north. It's terribly cold up there sometimes; and Father hates the cold.)_

 _I am currently pursuing a degree in fashion design—though, I really want to go into psychology, but that's a secret, silly~!_ _While I do design in my spare time, I can't really live off that forever. Father's been telling me constantly to get a job now; and our meeting today would make you...the fiftieth interview I've had over the course of the year so far._

 _But, aside from that failure, I'm known to be kind, loyal, and self assertive. My siblings love me, and I love them. I'm certain Father loves me too—but he's so shy at times, so I never get to know fully._

 _I may have no experience when it comes to customer service, or serving tables, but I'll give it everything I've got to prove to you that I have what it takes to be in this business. (Like baking; I love to bake.)_

...It was what she _would_ have said, had she not been interrupted by a loud slam on Mr. Izumo's desk. _"Ew!"_ He shouts, whining as if he were a spoiled child. Disgust is plagued all over his face, sending a sinking flag of danger in Camilla's direction. (Though, it's hard to say if he's really angry or not.)

"Terrible, _terrible_. I can't even look you in the _eyes_ , girl." Crossing his arms, Mr. Izumo raised his head and looked away.

"W-Was it something I said?" Camilla's voice was laced with concern, and slight embarrassment. "I apologize if I offended you in any way..."

 _"Oh,_ you offended me alright!" A large smile spreads fully on Mr. Izumo's face, after only a matter of seconds frowning. "Why do the kids always do this to me, I wonder? Do I _really_ look so _old_ and nasty? Do I really deserve the torment of a title like that? The world may never know, kid!"

"... _Pardon?"_

Mr. Izumo's bubbly tirade continues, despite the growing confusion outlining Camilla's brows. "C'mon, Cammy! Call me _Izana!_ _Mr. Izumo_ sounds too old, you know?"

Camilla paused before resting a hand on her lap, ultimately onfused to the maximum. "But...aren't _you_ the owner? Surely, that would mean..."

Izana waved her away with his hand mid-sentence, flipping his hair. " _Shhhhh!_ All my employees call me Izana, doll face! _Bloody Peri_ does, _Little Lena_ does, _Rochi_ does...and so does _Big Ben_..."

Her sunglasses begin to shift downward as she looked on with a flabbergasted expression. Through the childish gleam in his eyes, she's wondering if the gentlemanly aura he presented before was only just for show; or if he was even _serious_ at all.

 _These names..._

"Big Ben?"

"Yeah, who else, sister?" Izana lets out an embarrassing chortle, twirling the ends of his hair. _"Benny!_ He's such a teddy bear, that Benny... _oh!_ And Hayato definitely calls me Izana... _sometimes_. So, maybe you should too, Cammy!"

"U-Um..."

She decides to retrace her steps in the spare time she had left before Izana caught onto another one of his reminiscent babblings. After departing with Elise, she entered the restaurant without so much as a flick of her wrist. It's completely empty, which explained the closed sign; but clearly, Izana had been expecting her arrival.

Paper signs that read _"THIS WAY! YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!",_ and _"WHOO-HOO! YOU'RE HERE!"_ outlined the path she eventually took to arrive right in front of his office, labeled, _"The Fun Zone."_ (She _really_ needed context on this phrase, in all honesty.)

Rattling out her nerves, she did enough breathing exercises to have enough confidence in opening the door—letting the amorous scent of hibiscus flowers crowd her senses.

Upon entering, she hardly remembers seeing a goofball of a man sitting with one leg up on the desk. He seemed extremely serious, with his chin raised so high—like a rich man dreading his entire _existence_ while in the presence of commoners. She figured she'd really have to pull herself together for him to be the _least_ bit interested in her.

But, of _course_...now wasn't really the case anymore. (Now, while sitting in front of him, she could finally believe her father about how ridiculously chipper he was in a conversation.) Camilla sighed, folding her hands on his desk. "S-Sure, _Izana_..." She replied, subtly finding the name quite fun to say. "Forgive me for my insolence."

 _"Whew!_ Much better. You were about to give me a heart attack back there..." He wiped away at his forehead, smiling even still. "Since you understood so fast, why don't I let you in on a little secret?"

 _I'll take anything, at this rate._

"I'm all ears."

Izana takes a moment to let silence linger in the air, before reaching out to rest his hand on top of hers. He stares dead center into her eyes, contemplating the way she blinked faster than usual.

"...You don't have to be so _cutthroat_ about this, sister," he whispered, patting her wrist. "It's almost as if you've got a script written out in front of your eyes."

A shaky breath escapes her lips; but she tried her best to compose herself before he noticed.

 _But if he's seen through my act, I doubt I can hide much._

"...A script? In what way?"

"Well, I've noticed the way you like to word yourself. Using big words, proper stuff that only uptight _aristocrats_ would like. I'll tell it to you straight, though; I'm hardly like that _at all."_

A shocked chill runs down her spine as Camilla parted her lips slightly. Izana's earlier airiness becomes laced with hints of seriousness—and for the first time, Camilla thought she had heard a tinge of huskiness in his voice. (For the sake of curiosity, she wondered if he already had a girlfriend.)

"In this world, I know it's all about appearances, and all that smart vocabulary usage. But here, I could care less about that stuff. I'd rather have you working here acting like a complete psychopath like Bloody Peri than some robot saying _"Yes, sir,"_ like Big Ben. But I _like_ Big Ben, so he's an exception..."

She took mental notes in her head, feeling strangely lightheaded. Elise the Wise had spoken somewhat of this too—and for that, she was grateful.

"Anyway, you should just be yourself! I'm not that hard to impress, unless you're like, _really_ boring me."

Camilla felt herself smile as wide as Izana did, nodding her head with a newfound vigor. "I see what you mean, Izana...so, would it guarantee a spot as a cook if I were to loosen up a little?"

Though she probably shouldn't have asked it so bluntly, there probably wouldn't have been any other way around it. Izana blinked at her for a couple of seconds, contemplating her hopeful gaze with a mere frown.

" _You?_ In _my_ kitchen?" He erupted into fits of uncontrollable giggles, wiping a tear from his eye as Camilla looked on awkwardly. _"C'mon_ , don't think I'm gonna let a little _beginner_ like _you_ trash my place like that! And baking doesn't count!"

Izana stood proudly on his tip toes, extending a dramatic hand to the ceiling.

"By the time I'm done whipping you into shape, you'll know recipes that even your own _dad_ can't even top! Including _Izana's Super Awesome Sashimi Mix!_ And _The Best Thing You'll Ever Eat!"_

"With names like those, I'm sure they're to _die_ for."

 _"Hey!_ That's the spirit, sister! I'm seriously diggin' your enthusiasm...makes me wanna hire you on the _spot_ , you know?"

 _Oh, please do._

Camilla grinned, settling back in her chair. "Whatever comes first, I guess."

* * *

The afternoon heat at one-thirty was just as _deadly_ as it was at one o'clock—the sun's rays show no mercy at all as it laps up everything in sight in pure, blissful swelters. The clouds stretch out to the point where there almost wasn't one in sight; _bad_ news, if one didn't bring sunscreen.

Even with the aid of a trusty water bottle, midday joggers still felt like their throats were on fire—nearly as dry as the Sahara desert. And even with the comforting shade of a sunhat, children still came home to their parents with red, blistery skin, looking like pickled sausages fresh out the jar.

Simply put—Sunday was a _terrible_ day to be outside.

But it was also the day when the _great_ Mikoto, with hands practically covered in dust, makes the greatest discovery of her life, aside from her _exceptional_ house hunting skills.

In the depths of a raggedy old box labeled ** _"Sumeragi, 1977-1981",_** she uncovered a plethora of items dating back from her husband's _high school_ years, still archived in carefully sealed portfolios, sheet protectors, and file folders.

And within it, she found the _ultimate_ jackpot.

* * *

 ** _Touma Ōkoku Preparatory Academy_**

 ** _23rd Annual Student Exchange Program, 1977_**

* * *

It was an old yearbook from way back when, discovered by chance while Mikoto was digging through another round of boxes, relieving herself of the day's earlier events through _constant_ cleaning.

Meanwhile, Takumi had been hanging around the house for a little in the living room, too busy fighting off another dumb brigade of spear fighters in _Valla_. Ryouma occasionally watched him, but he eventually got bored over seeing the same cutscenes back and fourth, choosing to sketch a portrait of a woman instead.

It wasn't until their mother had called them over that their attention was averted to the book raised proudly in the air, along with Mikoto's bedazzled grin. "Ryouma, Takumi!" she quips, waving her hand around like a giddy schoolgirl. "I don't suppose your father's shown you _this_ yet, huh?"

Takumi glanced at his brother, who shrugged right back. Confusion riddles his face when he looked his mother in the eyes once more.

"What do you mean?" He asked, hesitant on saying anything else. He set his phone on the ground after saving his game, sitting a bit closer to Ryouma.

Mikoto rolled her eyes playfully, holding the yearbook close to her chest while biting her lip in anticipation. "I mean _exactly_ what I mean!" She replied cheerfully. "It's your father's yearbook from high school!"

 _"Seriously?"_

Ryouma's eyes widened when she chuckled aloud, flipping through page after page. "I figured he'd seal that box with Krazy glue," he murmured. "How long did it take you to open it, Mother?"

"Not long, in _all_ honesty," A hint of pride was evident in her voice as she scoffed, "I'd say it'd be a lucky break, considering I haven't looked at his pictures in a long time..."

"...Well, he might _not_ want anyone looking at his pictures. It's an invasion of privacy, right?"

Mikoto raised a suspicious brow at her son, smirking while flipping through a good handful of pages. "Oh _please_ , dear," she scoffs, pausing a moment to look at Touma's old mascot, captured in a weathered photo bleeding with high contrast. "You know you want to see him too!"

 _You can't hide anything from your own mother._

The younger boy froze on the spot, but couldn't help but smile a little afterward. Shifting awkwardly on the cushion beneath him, Takumi tried coming up with a solid excuse; enough to clear him from proving his mother right.

"I never _said_ I did...but since you implied it, I _guess_ I don't have much of a choice now."

"You're _so_ silly, Takumi."

Minutes pass a bit more while Mikoto still searched endlessly for a good photo of Sumeragi, finding satisfaction halfway through a chunky section of pages listed as, _**"Class Photos".**_ She only had to flip about two or three pages before coming across _another_ jackpot.

"Oh, I think I _found_ him! Come and look..."

Ryouma let out a low whistle, impressed at her speed. "That was... _fast."_

Takumi and Ryouma both focus their attention to the large book fastened in Mikoto's hands, glossing over a grainy photo covered in dust and old age. Despite the subpar quality, the picture itself was still vibrant in color (though, _slightly_ faded).

In it, there was a good estimate of about twenty kids all lined up in messy rows, some smiling nervously in front of the camera, while others were clearly itching for a good time. In the front row, there sat only two boys, grinning from ear to ear while their arms were practically glued to one another.

The first boy had long, brown hair, assembled in an intricately complicated ponytail, fastened with a red hair tie. It had been tied up so tightly that it made some strands stick up like a porcupine's quills, nearly obscuring the face of the girl sitting right behind him—and strangely enough, she looked a lot like Hinoka, in Takumi's eyes. (Or, at least, Hinoka with _extremely_ long hair, and braces that looked super painful to wear.)

Underneath the first boy's name were scraggly notes written in kanji on old sticky notes, with English translations scribbled messily at the bottom.

* * *

 _ **People I know:**_

 _ **Tokugawa, Sumeragi**_

 _(Myself, duh. I'd look very handsome, if I didn't look so foolish in the picture. But Garon said to get over it.)_

 _ **Konoe, Ikona**_

 _(She still answers my calls, so she's great.)_

* * *

Takumi blinked, peering closer at the photo in pure bewilderment. "...That _can't_ be Dad."

 _He looks too much like me._

If it weren't for the eyebrows that clearly belonged to Ryouma, Takumi could nearly pick out all his own features as displayed in his middle school pictures. (The worst photos he's ever seen in his life, if you asked him up front.)

Mikoto grinned, though somewhat sadly. "It is," she whispered, pointing to the childish smile depicted in the picture. "You looked _just_ like this in your junior high class photo with Hinata..."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mom."

"Of course you do, silly." Ryouma patted his brother on the head the minute he finished his sentence, chuckling out loud. "I have to say though; seeing him like this _really_ reminds me of you."

"Yeah, _right_. You're just saying that to mess with me..."

The second boy right next to Sumeragi wore an equally goofy grin as the one Ryouma had when he looked at Takumi again, teasing him from afar. He had short, platinum colored hair, curling around his ears as if he'd gone to picture day with his hair soaking wet. A black headband sits lopsided on top of his head, looking as if it were only minutes before it'd slip right off.

He's medium sized and scrawny, contrasting the near bulky size of Sumeragi. Above him, another girl rests her chin on his shoulder, smiling graciously.

* * *

 _ **DuBois, Garon**_

 _(Super good friend. **Really** good friend. **Realllly** good.)_

 _ **Beaux, Katerina**_

 _(She wasn't into me when I asked her out– **oops** -but we still get along.)_

* * *

"Wait, _hold up._ Is that the same man that was here earlier?"

Takumi's thoughts ran circles in his head as he tried to make sense of all the things running rampant in his brain. Partially, it's his disgust at how similar he looked to another boy he knew.

Though he hates to admit it—with every living fiber of his being—the Garon from 1977 looked a _hell_ of a lot like Leo. (The nerdy _bastard_ who was currently friends with Sakura.)

Mikoto confirmed his question with an all knowing nod, holding an amused hand to her lips. "Mhm. Completely startling, am I right?"

Ryouma nodded his head in amazement—how he'd gone from a scrawny mass of bones to a brooding macho man was anyone's guess. "Startling, indeed. But I _can_ see why women would've wanted him."

Silence cut in between him, Mikoto, and Takumi, as they both looked at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"...Ryouma, that's the most _disgusting_ thing you've said all day."

Though she was only thinking it, Mikoto could always count on Takumi to say her thoughts aloud. She watched with amusement as her eldest son laughed nervously, scratching his head.

Clearly, he hadn't been planning on saying such a thing so randomly.

"...Sorry."

There were more sticky notes near another boy, lips tied firmly in a thin smile. Next to him, there's a girl with a suspicious grin nudging playfully at his shoulder, as if trying to get him to laugh. A scar right above her eye is apparent, even in the photo.

* * *

 _ **Douglas, Gunter**_

 _(Garon's other friend. Even though he doesn't look very happy, he's actually very funny.)_

 _ **Furukawa, Reina**_

 _(She goes by another name, but she'd rather be called Reina. She and Gunter hang out a lot. She's also really funny, too!_ _)_

* * *

Takumi felt the wind nearly knock out of him when looking at Reina up close. "...No _way_...Dad was friends with the creator of Corrin in the House?"

"...Apparently. But who's this man here? He looks kinda... _distant_..." Ryouma pointed to a lanky boy standing off at the edge of the photo, hiding his seemingly hollow eyes through long, oily strands of brown hair. Despite the ghoulish appearance, he seemed _pretty_ lonely.

 _"Ugh_ , his hair looks super greasy..." Takumi had noticed other things, but that was to be expected. "Where's his name?"

Ryouma hummed, finding nothing of the sort. "...There doesn't seem to be a sticky note for him. Maybe Dad didn't know him that well?"

Before Mikoto could add in her own inquiry about the mystery boy, a loud rampage of knocks at the front door startled the trio from the rest of their conversation, along with muffled bickering outside.

 _"Your insults don't mean a darned thing to me, you stupid, ugly... **something**."_

 _"You don't even **have** any more insults to call me. I'd say **grandpa** needs his afternoon nap."_

 _"If I wasn't sweating like a hog out here, you'd have already been on the ground **bleeding** to death, Sumeragi."_

 _"Depends on who throws the first punch, if you ask me."_

A tired sigh escapes the Mikoto's lips when she closed the yearbook shut, standing up from the small circle she and her sons had unknowingly formed.

 _Here we go again._

* * *

 **Thanks for all the messages and requests last chapter! (Though some reviews didn't show up, it's only a tiny little glitch that happens ever so often; after a couple days, they usually reappear. I still got to read every last one of them, so no worries!)**

 ** _16_** **slots remain for the requesting period—though, I'll close it off once it hits 15, so I can catch up on editing all the ones I've started. (** **I'll notify when to send them in again soon.)**

 ** _Name Referencss_**

 ** _Bloody Peri_ —a play on "Bloody Mary", a prominent figure in global folklore, where if you say her name in the dead of night three times in front of a mirror, "a terrible fate awaits you". (Or simply, the future.) It sounded like a better pun for Peri's personality in my head. **

**_Surname References_**

 ** _Beaux_ —A plural form of the French term, " _beau_ ", meaning _"a male admirer"._ Though it is commonly masculine in origin, there are still women who bear this surname.**

 ** _Konoe_ —a _somewhat_ common Japanese surname, which was also used by the 76th emperor of Japan, (Emperor Konoe) whose rule spanned from 1142 to 1155.**

 ** _Douglas_ —Gunter's surname, named after his English voice actor, D.C Douglas.**

 ** _Furukawa_ —Reina's surname, named after her Japanese voice actress, Rei Furukawa.**

 ** _Places_**

 ** _Touma Ōkoku Preparatory Academy—_** **Where Garon, Sumeragi, and some other familiar figures attended school as part of a widely renowned student exchange program.** ** _Touma Ōkoku_ is also the Japanese name for the Invisible Kingdom of Fire Emblem Fates' third path. (Or, as some know, _Valla_.)**

 **What conclusions you draw from that knowledge is completely up to you.**

 **Take care!**


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

For only a few moments of your time, try and imagine yourself driving endlessly around in the outskirts of town, trying to escape the blasted heat of an exhilarating Sunday through constant AC and the determination to find a good place to eat. Sweat pools down your arms while your skin feels like it's on fire—baking in the sunlight radiating heatwaves overhead in traffic.

Normally, afternoon roads in the plaza leading down to numerous shopping centers aren't so bad _all_ the time—and that included weekends, too. But with every passing moment, summer proved to be increasingly clever. As the temperatures rose to a peak that continued to grow higher and higher, people grew feverish, and desperate.

Cars upon cars clog up the streets, honking away impatiently at traffic lights that decided to take their time to flash green.

Meanwhile, you're in the passenger seat with a friend behind the wheel—a friend that's not _exactly_ close, but close enough that they're willing to let you hitch a ride for the sake of convenience.

As you contemplate over how much life despised you at that very moment in time, a slick, ocean blue Ferrari pulls up right where you and your friend are doomed to sit in wait for the next light to pass. You can't help but begin to slowly bop your head back and fourth over the fact that this particular car is blaring Olivia Ferrera songs on full blast—she was a _hell_ of a good singer, after all.

When turning around in the seat to get a quick glance at the small jam going on in the other car, you see a man with steely colored hair balancing an ice cream cone in his hand, with the other hand grasped on the wheel handle. He wore the most _ridiculous_ shades, as they were heart shaped and plastered with tiny flower stickers on ruby red rims.

The apron he wore—that could only be seen a little, much to your growing curiosity—indicated that he was probably an employee at the nearby flower shop; the one that smelled like heaven on earth. He seemed to have been having a great time with whoever was in the passenger seat with him, though, which was pleasantly intriguing.

And you, with nothing to lose against the light that still shone red, decided to take a chance to find out just who that person was. You lean forward, ignoring the fact that your shirt sticks to your back like wet glue.

It turned out to be a young girl—blonde hair, violet eyes—wearing shades just as ridiculous as the driver's. Strawberry ice cream dribbled down her chin like a fountain, revealing her wide grin from behind a half eaten waffle cone. Before you can even comprehend all that you're seeing, the light finally gives up and turns green.

And the Ferrari—being the only interesting thing that happened to you all day—speeds off without a hitch, never to be seen again.

* * *

Elise watched in awe over the dozens of shops she and Lazward cruised by in only a minute's time, wiping away at her face to get rid of the sticky ice cream glued to her chin. At first, she really didn't know what to think of Lazward—he seemed nice, but incredibly suspicious, to the greatest extent.

She wasn't a stranger to the flirty winks he flashed in the direction of other women, only to get the cold shoulder within seconds of meeting their eyes. She _also_ wasn't a stranger to the fact that he kept talking on and on about Camilla, like a broken record. (He could've written an entire _sonnet_ all about her hair, if he wanted to.)

Had his car been any less luxurious than it already was, Elise would've voluntarily scratched up the exterior with a bobby pin—the jumbo ones, that were currently jammed in her hair—just to get him to be quiet.

But after taking her to the ice cream parlor as promised, and buying her little necklaces, charms, and all sorts of snacks, Elise could finally rule out the possibility of Lazward being a real threat to her and Camilla.

He, as she had soon discovered for herself, was only a man lying on the lonely, jagged rocks of lovesickness, hoping desperately for her sister to take him back again.

The same sister who was _more_ likely than not already crushing on Ryouma—but hey, he still had a good 50/50 chance, right?

... _Probably not._

Elise almost started feeling bad for the poor fellow, had there not've been a question that was still unanswered.

"Hey, Lazward," she asked, pushing up her new sunglasses (bought at Claire's, on sale for half-price) to the bridge of her nose. "Can I ask you something?"

Lazward lowered his eyes toward the younger girl, before quickly focusing his attention back to the road (for the sake of safety). He'd been humming his mother's song again over the radio, before Elise had spoken up.

"What's up, Elise?" He quips, biting down into another helping of vanilla ice cream. His mood is amazingly chipper, with the incoming sugar of a sweet treat boosting his enthusiasm. "You can ask me anything."

Elise paused for a short while, before holding out her new concert tickets in her hand. She was still counting them over and over from time to time.

Lazward, in some bizarre chain of events that was anyone's guess, had somehow snagged not _one_ , not _two_ , but _three_ tickets. _Three_.

One on its own cost _one-hundred and fifty dollars_ —and that was with a _membership_ discount. The normal cost around two-hundred, and then some.

Elise knew this, because she'd gone out of her way to research the night before. (Getting straight A's was usually a good factor, especially if she wanted Garon to get her anything.) Each and every last ticket was just too much to pay for by itself.

So how did he, of all people, get three?

... _Black market._

 _It's always the black market..._

"You never told me how you got these tickets..." She began, holding them up in his direction, fingers sticky with ice cream. "Did you con some girl out or something? Bribe someone to get them for you?"

Lazward chuckled, though somewhat hurt over the allegations brought against him. (But in being the good babysitter that he was, he wasn't going to let her question remain unanswered.)

" _Well_..."

She could see his eyebrows crinkle in deep thought, eyes still trained on the road ahead. "I paid for them myself," he replied quietly. "Every last penny."

Silence ensued for a couple moments, before Elise let out a loud, obnoxious snort, laughing aloud until she drowned out Olivia's own voice.

Lazward smiled, lapping up the sides of his ice cream carefully, while a small white mustache formed on his upper lip. "Is it really so hard to believe?" He inquires, amused by her laughter.

Elise shrugged playfully, raising her sunglasses a little. "Somewhat, yeah."

She pays no mind to his skillful display of a hurt expression—after all, a little honesty never hurt anyone. "You just don't seem like the kind of person to..."

"...Save _so_ much money in so _little_ time?" He finished her sentence with a light chuckle. "Me neither."

Lazward sat the remnants of his ice cream cone in the cupholder, mildly disappointed that it was all gone. He continued shortly as Elise propped her head on her palm for him to go on. "Truth be told though, I really wanted to make it up to you both after I left the states. Camilla's special to me, just as you are too. Maybe buying things isn't the _best_ way to greet someone after a long time...but I took a chance."

Her eyes widened, feeling a strange warmth sting her cheeks. (Garon's mindful warning helps her get rid of it, though.)

"Gee...thanks, Lazward! I think you're special too! And nice, sweet..."

 _And rich._

He laughed sheepishly while looking out into the street, giddy over Elise's compliment. "Do you really? Why, I think you're..."

* * *

... _ **Amazing...**_

 _ **Just the way you are~...**_

* * *

Elise changed the station in an instant by the time he had a chance to finish his sentence, sharing a mutually grateful smile with Lazward.

 _Wrong station._

"Well, I know what you mean." She replied. "It's all thanks to Camilla, anyway. She's the best sister _ever_ , in case you didn't know.

 _"Oh,_ I'm aware. Trust me!" His eyes spark with glee. "In case _you_ didn't know, I thought about her almost _everyday."_

"Really?" She grinned, counting the fifth time he'd already said this. "Well, I dunno about you, but she's been thinking about our new neighbor a lot. He's very handsome."

"...Huh?"

Lazward's face paled when he kept his foot glued to the brakes, prepared to step on it at any time.

 _Whoops, fun time's over._

Elise mentally flicked herself on the head as his body leaned forward, stiff and tensed up—she'd gotten too careless in the moment.

As if it was waiting on cue, the car had to stop to a halt at another boring red light— _beautiful_ timing, if there ever was such a thing—letting Lazward have the undivided opportunity to sink back into the shock of Elise's most recent confession.

Camilla liked someone _else_. Someone that wasn't _him_.

Had she moved on after all?

"Who is he?" He murmurs, voice thinning out on the little self-esteem he had left to spare.

"Uh..." Elise racked her brain for a good excuse—something effective enough to steer Lazward of his earlier suspicion. Ratting out her sister unintentionally was the last thing she wanted to do.

"...It's just a...kid." She rushed again for something else to say before Lazward got the wrong idea. "A kid...that I _like!"_

 _Bingo!_

For a moment, she's thankful that Garon isn't anywhere near her. Lazward raised a conspicuous brow in wonder, but otherwise allowed the girl to continue. A soft smirk begins to replace the worried frown on his face moments before, however.

"I didn't know you _liked_ someone, Elise..." He coos, nudging her shoulder cheerfully. "Is it serious?"

"Oh, y-yeah, it's _pretty_ serious." She turned to face the window for more answers. "Camilla's been thinking about him...because...she doesn't know if he's good for me or not! He could be a jerk, y'know?"

Lazward takes a few moments to stare hard at Camilla's younger sister—assessing if she's _really_ telling the truth.

But he knew someone as precious as Elise would never lie. Never, ever, _ever_. "Oh, I see...what's he look like?"

She closed her eyes momentarily and thought up the first thing that came to mind.

"Black hair with...a little bit of white fur under his tummy. Black eyes. Black paw— _hands_. No, uh, _tan_ hands. He's very energetic, and he really likes to lick my face. He drools a lot too, which is sorta...okay, sometimes? Yeah, that's about it."

"Uh..."

Lazward drew a blank as Elise _hmphed_ in satisfaction, having absolutely no idea if who she had described even existed.

 _Aw...an imaginary crush. How cute._

"Well, I'm sure he's _wonderful_ , Elise." he murmured, patting her shoulder. "But... _maybe_ he shouldn't lick your face. It's kind of nasty, isn't it?"

"Hm, I dunno. I'm pretty used to it."

He blinked back surprise, hiding it with a nervous grin. "O-Oh... _splendid_. I hope you enjoy that _and_ the concert, then..."

"Ooh, about that!" She had almost forgot to ask about the tickets again, for another question had sprouted in her head. "If two of the tickets are for me and Camilla...then who's gonna get the third one?"

Lazward hummed, shrugging his shoulders. "Whoever you see fit, I guess," he answers. "Maybe for your crush?"

"A-Ah, _well_..." Elise paused, putting on a fake grin to make sure her act was still together. "You sure? You _are_ the one who paid for it..." _Apparently_...

Lazward shook his head. "Oh no, don't worry about me. As for myself, I'm planning something...very _pleasant_ , in the meantime."

Her eyes narrow when he throws her another smile, steering over to the left once the light finally turns green.

Elise began to notice the way he handled the wheel as if it were a stress ball—squeezing it hard against the leather exterior.

There seemed to be something wrong, but Elise doesn't dare to ask. _Yet_.

"...Okay..."

* * *

In Washington D.C, the weather's a bit nicer further up from the southeast heat. The sun barely makes its presence known as dark clouds roll about like large, gray tendrils floating in the sky, leaving behind scattered showers and grumbling noises of thunder in their wake.

But aside from the fact that it was pouring rain, the air was cool, and slightly humid. At the airport, there were hundreds upon hundreds of people making their way to their desired destinations, dripping with rainwater while smelling like foul, walking cesspools.

Kamui Naya and his personal team—Jakob, Flora, and her twin sister, Felicia—are one of many who were on their way to leave D.C for the time being, as his weekly shooting of Corrin in the House had ended earlier than expected. Reina was going on holiday for the summer with her husband, (whose name she kept a diehard secret) and postponed any further episodes from airing until late August.

That left a solid two months of rest and relaxation—and Kamui wanted nothing more than to spend it by his mother's side.

Jakob, however, would've rather _died_ than have forced himself to sit around and wait for Felicia, who was still dawdling around everywhere _except_ in the plane.

Kamui looked out of the window to watch the rain drizzle down in front of him, wondering how long he'd have to keep waiting until takeoff.

"Hey, Jakob, where's Felicia?" He muttered, tracing the outside of the window with his finger in boredom. "I thought she was boarding with Flora.."

"I'm not sure, Kamui. But if memory serves me correctly, she was getting your luggage from the baggage reclaim."

"She also needed to use the bathroom, too," Flora added quietly, chewing on some fruit snacks left in her purse (there was also a sewing needle and two balls of yarn jammed in there too.). "It shouldn't take her that long, though."

"I see..." Kamui nodded his head, absorbing their words while letting his hand fall to his thigh. Being on a plane while it wasn't going anywhere was more boring than when it was actually in the air. "Maybe she'll call soon, then."

Jakob grimaced internally when his cellphone began to buzz on his lap right when Kamui mentioned it, nearly falling to the floor when he bent over to pick it up. (Kamui, on the other hand, began to chuckle over the fact that the James Bond theme kept going off in the midst of confused civilians boarding the plane.)

Upon seeing who it was, he swallowed up his annoyance and responded.

"Good _god_ , Felicia," He grumbled, "Where are you?"

He waited a couple minutes as he heard panicked breaths ooze out on the other end, overshadowed by the loud static given by the rain.

 _"Jakob!"_ The voice cries, shaken by the thunder ripping through the clouds in the background. _"Oh my gosh, is that really you?!"_

 _You called this number for a reason, didn't you?_

Felicia's staticky voice shattered Jakob's eardrums when she practically screamed into the phone. _"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh..."_

" _Felicia!_ You've said _"Oh my gosh"_ three times already. Answer my question, please."

 _"Hey, where did you and Kamui say the bags were? I-I can't find them anywhere!"_

Jakob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

Felicia Kron, dressed in a wooly fur coat in the middle of a dreary summer shower, currently has two problems (well, _three_ , if you counted the coat itself). They weren't originally problems in the first place—but if anyone knew the girl well, she knew how to do _many_ things to make it one.

The _first_ problem was that Felicia couldn't find Kamui's suitcase. It was there when she and Flora checked them into the airport, of course–but as soon as Flora had left to use the bathroom, her sister soon discovered that it was gone.

 _Completely_ gone. _Entirely_ gone.

She was at a loss for words, scurrying around the airport to find it as soon as possible, without Kamui noticing. And Jakob, who had done everything in his power to _get a move on already_ before it started raining, was now shouting on the phone in amongst multitudes of people boarding the plane over a silly suitcase.

"I left them _right_ where I _told_ you to get them!" He shouted, clutching his handkerchief with clammy hands. "At the reclaim, remember?"

And that, ladies and gents, was where Felicia's _second_ problem came in. She didn't exactly know where the "reclaim" was, or if it actually existed.

 _Maybe it's a code word for something else?_

" _U-Um, what's the reclaim? Is it where I get the bags...did Flora take it in the bathroom or something?"_

If anyone despised Felicia's occasional stupidity more than anything in the world, it was Jakob. He grit his teeth to hold back his urge to scream, running a hand through his hair. _"Yes_ , Felicia. It's the _giant_ conveyor belt that should be there right before you enter the plane. Flora already left the bathroom about ten minutes ago."

 _"O-Okay! Is Flora with you, by any chance? I saw her leave the bathroom, but I don't know if she got on the right plane!"_

Jakob practically threw his phone at Flora, who sat in the seat behind him. She caught it in her hands before it went any farther.

"I'm on the plane waiting for you, sister. Try and hurry up before the plane leaves, okay?"

" _Oh, good! Okay, I just have to go to the reclaim now..."_

There was an entire stampede of shuffling from where Felicia darted off to the conveyor belts like Jakob had described, searching for any sign of Kamui's bags.

 _"Whoa, I got it! I really got it! Yay me!"_

Felicia hooted and hollered on the phone, forcing a chuckle out of Flora and Kamui, and a sigh out of Jakob.

"That's _great_ , Felicia! Now, bring them to the plane, before they move the ladder!"

Flora passed the phone back to Jakob, who took it reluctantly while Felicia continued to praise herself through short songs and jingles. "If you're not here in the next five minutes, I'll throw your blasted bags _right_ off this plane."

He hung up in annoyance, before shoving his phone back in his pocket. Kamui laughed, settling back into his seat while Jakob grumbled about to himself like a child in the aftermath of a tantrum.

"I swear, I'll start getting _wrinkles_ if I keep having to yell at Felicia all day..."

He pat his friend on the shoulder, calming him down with a bright smile. "Don't worry, Jakob," he murmured. "You're the _last_ person I can _ever_ imagine with wrinkles."

"He's right. Wrinkles don't suit you, after all."

Jakob hid his blush with his sleeve while Flora smiled in his direction. He still forgot that in dealing with Felicia, he had to be mindful that Flora was still her sister.

"Hm...I guess so," he mumbles bitterly. "Excuse me for my behavior, then. I'm only running on herbal tea and an empty stomach."

"Well, why didn't you eat this morning? Silas made the _best_ pancakes today, you know."

"Because herbal tea and pancakes _don't_ go together, Kamui. Syrup makes me nauseous..."

"He made muffins, too..."

" _Blueberry_ muffins. _Disgusting_. I'll only eat Flora's chocolate muffins, and that's it."

The woman smiled, wrapping a strand of yarn around her finger thoughtfully. "Thanks, Jakob..."

Kamui chuckled, staring back at he window. "Man, you're so picky!"

"I'm aware," Jakob grinned, pleased with himself. "Now, if Felicia doesn't hurry up..."

A loud clamor erupts at the front of the plane as Jakob's sentence trails off, revealing a girl in a wool coat soaked through with rainwater. In her hands were two, bulky bags, hanging by a thread on both sides of her legs.

 _"Alright!"_

Felicia let out a triumphant shout as she puffed out her chest and marched clumsily to where he friends were sitting, stepping over the toes of nearly everyone in her path.

"Guys, I made it!" She declared, plopping right next to Flora. "I _finally_ got the bags in, just like Jakob said!"

Kamui and Flora both clapped encouragingly while she bowed her head, thanking her gracious audience.

... _Except_ Jakob.

She noticed his death stare in the corner of her eyes, stiffening up in surprise before nervously laughing it off. "Ah, I'm sorry, Jakob! I _promise_ it won't happen again..." She rummaged around in her purse for something to ease his headache. "... _Aha!_ Try and use this, okay?"

Felicia placed a large, lukewarm ice pack over Jakob's throbbing head, grinning as if she'd just saved his life. He looked back at her with a sour glare, but otherwise smiled.

The plane began to churn as more and more people began to board with them—and even though Jakob still complained over why he had been convinced to take a public plane instead of his own family's private _jet_ , Kamui didn't seem to mind the company of others less fortunate at fame than he.

"...You know, I've always wondered what your family was like, Kamui. I'm honored to be able to meet them..."

Kamui blinked, pleasantly surprised at Flora's sudden words from behind him. (Though, knowing her as well as she did, he should've been expecting it soon enough.)

"Well, they're great people, I assure you," he says, closing his eyes. "They're super nice, and never have a problem with _anyone."_

He had no idea that it had become the biggest understatement of the year.

* * *

 **Man, that glitch sure lasted a lot longer than the last time it happened.** **Regardless, I still got around to reading all your new reviews. So, thank you so much :) (They're back now, _yayyyyy_ )**

 **Oh, and to that one anon who happened to wish me a great week—thank you! I hope you have a great week too! I really needed that.**

 ** _Surname Reference_**

 ** _Kron_ —The surname chosen for Felicia and Flora. ****Based on their father's name (and physical attributes and appearances, including their heritage in the Ice Tribe) I feel as though they had somewhat of a Nordic/Scandinavian background.** ** _Kron_ as a surname is derived from German, Swedish, and Dutch roots, and means "crown".**

 **What's more, it's said that this name, in Swedish terms, was used for someone who worked in royal households, which can be related to the fact that both Flora and Felicia serve Kamui in Fire Emblem Fates as maids. (When used as a surname in Germany, it describes a "bald or tonsured man.")**

 **Tonsure is a traditional practice in Catholicism, which one shaved off his or her hair on the scalp, as a sign of religious devotion. It's still practiced today, as exhibited by priests and monks, in many different religions.**

 **Take care!**


	16. Chapter 16

**16**

Leo and Sakura arrive on the weakening porch steps of her house, faces flustered and flushed pink, while their hands were still entwined with one another.

For twenty minutes, they'd walk side by side up the path stemming from the community center and beyond—talking, laughing, and smiling all the while. Leo entertained her with bad jokes he'd learned from Odin—remembering only last minute to ask of her favorite song—finding comfort every time the girl cracked up with giggles. (Whether he was _truly_ funny, or if she was doing it out of pity, he'd never know.)

Sakura made idle chatter throughout their time together, content with the shared warmth of Leo's own hand. It's strange, in the way her chest rolls with glee when he smiles, and the way her lips curl into a grin when his eyes light up upon hearing something interesting. (His eyes, colored a _beautiful_ brown, seem like bright pools of hazel in the summer sun.) She wanted the moment—so cherished within his smile—to last _forever_.

But _now_ , here they were—giddy, and considerably antsy in front of the front door, unaware of the sweat that rolled down their arms and stuck to their backs.

Leo stared at the gold doorknob yearning to be turned, realizing only seconds later that he _probably_ had to let go of Sakura's hand now. He shook their hands around slightly, reminding her of their current predicament.

" _Well_ ," He murmurs, wary of the weird pitch wandering in his voice. "We're here."

When looking over to her, Leo noticed the way her eyes fall to the ground, seemingly disappointed. (Part of him wants to ask why, for the sake of asking; but the other half keeps his mouth shut.)

" _Yep_..." Sakura breathed in a heavy sigh, meeting his one-sided gaze. _"I-I'll_ just, uh..." Her fingers start to slowly unravel from his, like pieces of a puzzle breaking off from one another.

The atmosphere feels completely different when Sakura finally breaks free of Leo's grasp, awkwardly squeezing her fingers back and fourth to let the reddened color within each digit wash away.

"Sorry if I held on too tightly," She mumbled nervously, biting down on her lip. "It's a habit of mine, unfortunately..."

Leo's hand stood still in time, fingers twitching slightly from the loss of warmth. He misses it already, but he holds himself back from saying anything about it. Looking at her with a well endowed smirk, he tries to best cover up his hesitance with style.

"It's alright," he replied, smooth and precise. "It's not that bad of a habit, though..."

 _I like it._

Sakura's eyes widen, suddenly curious. "Really?"

He nodded, facing the door again. "I'd say so."

"I see..."

The air had gone stagnant, much to their surprise.

"...I'm sure they're waiting for us to come back..." Sakura whispers again, edging quietly towards the door. "Takumi might get worried..."

Leo's eyebrows crinkle in curiosity, wondering why she'd thought of her brother—as compared to her _mother_ and _father_ —so quickly. Was he waiting _right_ behind the door, awaiting the satisfaction of finally getting to punch him in the face?

Leo can see it now, though a fearful vision in his mind—Takumi's glare going from him to Sakura, and back again. His _eyes_ , _brooding_ and _shallow_ , narrow thin as he clenches his fist, pulling back for the _fatal_ blow. " _I'm stronger than I look, bastard."_

Nonetheless, he finds the right words to reply with, despite the paling exterior of his face. "Y-Yeah, you're right..."

They stand side by side a bit longer, taking glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. Although silent, Leo felt as though he could still read her thoughts, clear as day through her timid expressions.

"So... _Leo_..."

He perks up at his name being called, finding a sort of satisfaction in the way she said it. (It was quiet, and almost _alluring_ , like the whisper of an angel through thick, white clouds.)

"Yes?" He asks, awaiting her answer.

Sakura looks down for a moment, fiddling with her thumbs. The crease in her brow confirms of her hesitance to even go on; but the determined glare etched in her eyes proves absolute.

"...Did you have fun?"

She says it as if she was expecting a flat out no— _strange_ , considering all the fun they'd had. Leo's reply comes almost too quickly— _too_ eager, and _too_ giddy, even for him. "Well, of course I did." He says, clear as day. "Didn't you?"

Sakura broke up in laughter, blushing madly. "W-Well, _yes!_ It's not like I _didn't_ or anything! I was only... _curious_."

She's all smiles now, which makes Leo pleasantly happy himself.

"That's good to hear."

* * *

After knocking at the door—and later having it opened by Takumi—Leo stumbles upon a sight that both startled _and_ amused him. He feels as though he should've been expecting this sooner or later; but the fact that it was happening _now_ made him want to collapse on the floor and laugh all day.

In the living room of Sakura's house, there was an entire circle of people sitting crisscrossed on firm cushions, eyeballing one another as if they were apart of a large therapy session. Garon and Sumeragi sit next to each other begrudgingly, grumbling in more ways than one.

Ryouma sits one cushion across from his father, minding his own business in combing through his hair. Nishiki makes his appearance at last while purring away in Ryouma's lap—and for a moment, Leo feels almost ready to kick him into next _week_.

His beady eyes seem to wink in the blonde's direction, threatening him with another " _accident_ " from afar.

Hinoka doesn't seem to notice his sudden scowl, even though she sat right next to Ryouma, and was only inches away from Leo's line of sight. Her attention was focused solely on Sakura, who hid a little behind Leo as if he were some sort of shield. She smiled playfully at her sister, who met her eyes with bewilderment.

In the center of it all was Mikoto herself, holding out an old, dusty book in front of her as if it were the holy bible. Her eyes, mysterious and keen, flicker over to her daughter and Leo, brightening along with her newfound smile.

"Sakura, Leo!" She chirps, gesturing to two identical cushions in between Ryouma and Takumi. "I'm so _glad_ you could join us!"

Sakura raises a brow, hesitant on even sitting down. "What's all this for...?"

Takumi appears from behind her, patting down on his own cushion, and practically summoned Leo to his. Judging from his face alone, Leo can tell he's tired; annoyed, and desperate on escaping the untimely _death trap_ that was Mikoto's therapy circle.

Leo cracks him a winded smile, hoping to lighten up the mood; and to his own surprise, Takumi makes a good enough effort to smile back. He sat next to him while Mikoto grinned towards her daughter, laying out the dusty yearbook in a modest fashion.

"Well, Sakura," she began sweetly, "This is all a nice little get together I planned on the fly. So everyone can get along nicely, you know?"

Her voice stresses heavily on " _everyone_ "—especially when looking in the direction of the husband she proudly ignored, and the man sitting next to him that she ultimately despised at the moment. (The only reason she hadn't kicked him out yet was because of the fact that Leo and Camilla were such _nice_ kids, including Elise.)

"I-I see..." Sakura kept her mouth shut for a while—aware of the faint malice hidden in her mother's luxurious smile.

" _Mhm_! At the end of the day, we're going to find out why your fathers argue about so _childishly_."

Takumi had singlehandedly caught up his sister with everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes—Mikoto had gotten fed up with all the arguing going back and fourth with Garon and Sumeragi, choosing to solve whatever caused their falling out through an " _intervention_."

So far, they had gone through two years worth of a budding friendship, blooming into a brotherly bond. (Ryouma had even confessed to seeing Garon _smile_ at one of the pictures featuring him and Sumeragi, holding two identical soccer balls on their hands.) She had them confess to almost everything, including the events of the day when they had met.

Sumeragi, on the other hand, was throughly annoyed with the whole ordeal. He was already slightly angered over Mikoto having plundered through all his private things–and now, so suddenly, she was expecting him to be in the same room as _Garon_ , sharing all his thoughts and feelings. He'd have rather _died_.

"Mikoto, this is already _unnecessary_ as it is," he muttered bitterly. "It'd be easier if Garon just went home with his kids."

Garon nodded in agreement—the first they'd had all day. (He's strangely quiet, making Leo a bit worrisome.) Mikoto's eye twitches, but she doesn't make a sound. "So, I should let him go home so the arguing resumes _tomorrow_...is _that_ what you're telling me?"

Her tone lay on the borderline of irritation, and Sumeragi knew better than to challenge it. Closing his eyes, he tried another way. "...I'm only suggesting that there are _better_ ways to do this. Perhaps through—"

"— _January 22nd, 1980."_ Mikoto cuts him off, mind made up then and there. "Your final year, and your class photo shows a drastic change than it did in the first two years of high school. What happened there, Sumeragi?"

Ryouma and Takumi raise their heads in interest as they see their father stiffen; and for the first time, they can sense _real_ fear in his eyes. Mikoto looks over to Leo as she takes a gander at everyone sitting in the room, confusion still plaguing his face.

"Here, Leo," She calls, standing up a bit. "Why don't you have a look?"

Leo blinks, hesitating on his answer. His father seemed to have no complaints, as he was still spacing out in whatever he was thinking about.

"S-Sure..."

When presenting the photo in question, Mikoto points to a young boy dressed in dusty pants and a shirt ripped down the middle, revealing a pale stomach covered by crossed arms. His nose is _crinkled_ in disgust, while his hair remains disheveled and unruly. He was about to ask who it was, until the name scribbled at the bottom confirms what becomes the _scariest_ realization of his life.

It's his _father_.

He could almost see _himself_ within the picture, feeling chills run down his spine as he looked closer, feeling his fingers slip while holding the yearbook tighter. Though in this version, he takes more of Xander's figure—a tall man, with broad shoulders and an intimidating stare—Garon still holds onto _Leo's_ eyes, and the way his bangs fall messily over his forehead.

A younger Sumeragi sits next to this boy (the boy that was _apparently_ his father), frowning hard while wearing a shirt that was specked with small splotches of what looked to be blood—a tooth was missing, and his arms were blistered with dark bruises.

In the four rows of students, they remain as the only ones in the front—separated _faaaar_ away from each other.

Sumeragi shifts on his cushion, lips drooping into a grimace. Even as Leo tries to grab his father's attention— _"Father, what's wrong?"_ —Garon makes no attempt to meet his eyes at all.

"...Sumeragi and I had gotten into a fight..." He admits through gritted teeth, taking Sumeragi aback. "... _Right_ before our pictures were taken."

Mikoto nods her head, looking no different in her hardened gaze towards the yearbook. She'd been expecting the answer, though surprised that Garon was the one to confirm it.

"Do you remember why it happened?" She asks, bent on the thirst for knowledge. "Anything at all?"

Garon pauses, glancing at Leo for a few minutes. The glare in his eyes is apparent, but it's not toward _him_.

"...He _replaced_ me." He whispered, furrowing his eyebrows in a deep crease. "For some other careless lout as his best friend."

" _Replace_?" Sumeragi blinked back shock, resting his hand on his lap. "I've done no such thing."

"Think again, you _unruly_ crustacean." A smirk prompts his lips to smile, before dropping back into a frown. "You remember _Iago_ , don't you? The man you'd called your long lost _brother?"_

His voices drops low as Sumeragi's lips parted slightly—Ryouma and Takumi edge back in their seats for a moment, while Leo almost doubles back in surprise. (Hinoka looks on, subconciously hoping for some sort of action; like Sumeragi slapping Garon in the face, or something.)

Hopefully, they weren't talking about the same _old, disgusting vermin_ that was Old Man Iago. The man who'd _never_ leave Leo or his family alone, no matter how hard they tried to ignore him. The neighborhood _boogeyman_ , said to haunt the dreams of little kids.

Sumeragi looks at Mikoto, who shakes her head upon meeting his eyes. _This is your problem, not mine._

"...I _never_ said that," he sighed, after a momentary silence. "You know you and I were close enough as it was."

" _Close_ , you say? _Huh_." He breaks out into a bitter laugh. "I wonder if you knew how I felt when you sat next to him at lunch, instead of me. Or when you'd talk to him all day long, instead of _me_. All because his of his _damned_ hair, no less."

Leo mentally cringed upon _remembering_ said hair.

"Hair had nothing to do with any of the conversations we had. If you gave him a chance, you would've known he was a _very_ loyal person."

"He was a _dog_. Some pitiful fool who only followed others to make himself feel better."

"And _I_ decided to be friends with him. Is that so bad?"

Garon rolled his eyes. "In your case, it's the **_worst_** thing you could possibly do."

Sumeragi grit his teeth, shaking his head in disagreement. "How can you say that as if it was my fault?" He retorted. " _You're_ the one that introduced me to him!"

"And _so what_ if I did? I wasn't _expecting_ him to make you _forget_ about me!"

The room goes completely silent as Garon's voice reached max volume—like the roar of a lion let out into the wild. Sakura held back a gasp before glancing towards Leo. He hadn't looked back, but she still could see the fear pulling at his lips.

His father stood up shakily, clenching and unclenching his fists back and fourth. Frustration was evident in every fiber of his being, waiting to be lashed out at everyone in the room. Nishiki pulls away from Ryouma's lap and retreats to the kitchen, hiding around near the pantry.

Sumeragi stood up along with Garon, expecting him to start throwing punches left and right. Mikoto is wary, but doesn't care to move. There's something in Garon's face that only _she_ can see—a _wall_ , of sorts, finally crumbling before her very eyes.

The hard exterior he'd been showing all day had suddenly started breaking away—leaving him vulnerable, and immune to spill out all sorts of emotions; his frustration and anger, for one thing.

"I remember feeling...incredibly _livid_ that day." He grumbled, looking towards the ceiling. "Giving that old _dunce_ a piece of my mind was the only thing I could think of to knock some sense into him..."

Mikoto's eyes softened when she stared at Garon, feeling slightly bad for him. (She would've felt it even more if he hadn't insulted her earlier.) Her eyes flick to Sumeragi, expecting him to return the favor with something nice.

One look at his face tells her the _complete_ opposite, however.

"Oh, _shut up."_

Sumeragi is silent when he takes Garon by the arm; waiting only a few moments, before pulling him into a somber _embrace_.

Leo and Sakura share worried glances—one, for feeling incredibly out of place, and two for wondering if Sumeragi hugging the living daylights out of his father was some sort of secret killing technique.

Sumeragi seemed to show no sort of deadly intentions, however. His attention remained on Garon, and Garon alone.

"... I can't believe you made me lose a _tooth_ over some petty _jealously_..." He murmurs, patting Garon's head. "You're still my _brother_ , for gods sake. I'd _never_ replace you."

Mikoto cooed to herself while Ryouma smiled, finally putting down his comb to watch the odd display of rekindled friendship. Takumi, meanwhile, looked around fervently for something to distract him, feeling awkward and out of place.

Garon remained quiet, backing away after Sumeragi had finally let go.

His gaze had softened up entirely—and for once, he hadn't been staring at Sumeragi with a full blown death stare. Something foreign lingers at his lips, curling them into a bright smile. Leo knows the feeling well, whenever he looks at Sakura, Camilla, Elise, and his own father.

 _Happiness_.

It's a nice feeling, when shared with someone you knew.

"I'm _not_ your _brother_ , stupid." Garon spat, punching the man in the shoulder playfully.

 _"I'm your best friend."_

* * *

 **I hope you're all ready to see a certain blue haired songstress next time. (That's all I'll say for now, though~)**

 **— _Update on Requests_ —**

 **My slots are filled for the moment, so I'm going to close them until further notice.** **I'm going to be working on all of them for the next couple of days—but if you'd like to know, _7_** **are all finished, edited, and proofread.**

 **I'll post all 15 so far as part of a collection when finished with them all; so I hope the wait won't bother you :)**

 **Thank you, and take care!**


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

Countless practice sessions in the Straz Center's soundproof rooms leave her mentally weak, and vocally stressed out.

The hours spent on voice exercises, song recordings, and dress rehearsals bring her to the brim with exhaustion—but as a celebrity, she doesn't have much of a right to complain. She chose this path because of her mother, and her mother's mother.

Azura chose the path to _entertain_ , despite her father telling her to take a break from time to time.

It's six o'clock in the evening—and still, Azura can't even _bother_ trying to go to sleep. Her cramps are too great to bear with alone, and no form of ice pack or bowl of ice cream could ease her splitting headaches. Her concert is in _two_ weeks (her mother's been calling her _constantly_ to remind her of such), and she's barely prepared for it.

Propped up on the kitchen table of the penthouse bought temporarily by her father, her eyes wander hungrily toward the fridge, filled with junk food, half eaten salads, and arrays of bottled water, half full and almost empty.

She craved for something _gooey_ and _sweet_ —like an ice cream sundae, topped with blueberries and cherries; _drizzled_ with hot chocolate sauce, and _oozing_ with syrup.

But since her assistant took the day off, her desire for a sweet treat falls short of its goal. (Oh, how she _wished_ Mozume could magically _poof_ into the room right about now.)

Azura Lazuli was a _star_ ; a beauteous singer, and a graceful dancer. Born on one of the islands in the Persian Gulf, (her mother happened to be vacationing there with her father) her heritage sparks a chain reaction that's been following her since birth.

Her father, Ryuurei, was a seller of wool—wool coats, wool blankets, wool sweaters, you name it—and owned factories in both parts of the world. He's hand tailored Azura's clothes ever since she was a child.

Arete, his wife, was a well known singer back in the late 1970's and 80's. Many adored her, for her amorous voice and silky blue hair (all her fans considered it naturally blue, while others thought it was dyed.). She's sung in duets with Olivia Ferrera, a rival at the time, in both talent and looks. (But now, they're the very best of friends, talking for hours and hours about their kids.)

And then there was Azura, their only child—raised only by Ryuurei and Arete until they'd move back to their condo in Europe, where everyone else was waiting to catch a glimpse at the _"baby of the century"_ , born to parents who hadn't even thought of having a child. It was an embarrassing title, with an even _more_ embarrassing response.

Azura was on the front pages in all kinds of magazines— _Knight's Digest, The Altean Tribune,_ and the _Windmire Weekly_ , for starters. She's been in hundreds of commercials and sporting events, and took part in giant wedding bonanzas as the main entertainment.

But now, she's all grown up—meaning _double_ the publicity, and _double_ the fame. Her baby face is gone, replaced by low cheekbones and fuller lips. Azura was much taller than before, but not as tall as Ryuurei just yet.

Oh, and a bonus?

She's _pregnant_.

... _Boom_ , goes the confetti that no one ever asked for.

The tabloids have their theories on the father, while the paparazzi barely has a clue (for once.) But Azura knows who it is—and frankly, _he_ should've too, the moment they accidentally got a _little_ too carried away after a night out in Tokyo. (The drinks looked pretty bubbly, and she was itching for a good time.)

Her stomach growls even louder as she tries to distract herself with something else—a casual, _humane_ conversation, with another _sane_ human being. She dialed the digits on her phone quickly, waiting a while on speaker until someone finally picked up.

Which _eventually_ brung her to her current topic of interest, right around six-fifteen.

"What do you suppose I should do, Charlotte? Should I cancel the concert?"

The woman on the other end of the phone scoffs, waving away whatever ridiculous thought Azura had going in her head.

Azura's only known Charlotte since her last concert in the states three years ago, in the very center of California. (Their weather is nice, depending on the area.) They met by chance in a high end restaurant—Charlotte being her sassed up waitress, looking for a good enough tip to buy herself a trip to the spa.

Azura remembered her mostly for the _abundant_ amount of hair she had, tumbling down her back like a waterfall. She was a dreamy sight, if you counted in the bright sheen of eyes, as blue as the sea. If there was anyone who could knock enough _sense_ into her, it was most definitely Charlotte.

" _Like hell you're canceling, 'Zura,"_ She laughs, twirling her locks into thick tendrils of hair on the whim of her finger. " _You know how many people broke the bank trying to buy your tickets? I can't believe you'd want to disappoint them all like this..."_

Charlotte's words ring true, as much as Azura wished to ignore them. The massive pit in her stomach kills the motivation trying to egg her on in practice, when all she felt like doing was taking a long nap.

"I know, I know," she mutters, holding a hand to her head. "But I'm feeling _terrible_..."

 _"One a scale of one to ten, please."_

"...Eleven."

Azura could hear Charlotte sigh longingly, thoroughly unimpressed. " _Well, shit. How's your stomach doing?"_

Azura popped a lonely cucumber slice into her mouth, after seeing it crammed pitifully in one corner of the fridge. "It's been feeling better...but I don't know if it'll last till the concert ends."

" _Yeah, yeah, I get ya, girlie. Does the man of the hour know about it yet, though?"_

Azura paused, drifting off into an uncomfortable silence while lowering her eyes with embarrassment. His name was at the very _top_ of her contacts—but all their conversations were as general as could be. Azura hadn't dared to mention it, even once. (Even her parents had yet to find out.)

"...No."

Over the phone, there's a sudden thud resounding in her ears; as if Charlotte had practically fallen off whatever she was sitting on. " _What?!_ " She shouted in disbelief. _"Still?"_

 _You want me to say it again?_ "Yes..."

Charlotte groaned. _"For christ's sake, Azura. What're you waiting on? You're already two months in!"_

Azura stiffened at the words, forming a wave of stress wearing down her temples.

 _Believe me, you don't have to tell me twice._

"W-Well, I _don't_ need for him to worry about me," she replied, dreading the pitiful groans of hunger coming from her stomach. (At this rate, she might as well have eaten the entire table.) "He's been looking forward to seeing me sing for a _long_ time, and I don't want to disappoint him..."

" _Yeah, because being told you're going to be a father is very disappointing."_ Charlotte let out a loud chortle, startling her sleep deprived friend. " _Geez, Azura, you're the worst."_

A blush skyrockets across her cheeks, revealing a nervous smile that blooms upon her face. "N-No, I'm _not!_ You'd understand, wouldn't you, Charlotte?

" _Not really. I'm not the pregnant woman here. Speaking of it, though, I'm kind of surprised that the paparazzi hasn't started noticing it yet..."_

Azura chuckles, amused over proving the other girl wrong. (Little did Charlotte know, the tabloids knew their fair share of getting around.) "Perhaps it's for the best," she murmured. "I wouldn't want him to get sucked into all that drama."

Charlotte's sudden laugh leaves her relieved, for the time being. _"Amen, sister."_

The two girls talked a little while longer, letting the minutes pass by with their chatter; of giddy laughter and shared enthusiasm over petty gossip. The old glimmer of the Sunday sunset fades into darkness—a murky blue, settling into a dark, jaded purple. In the pockets of silence leading their chat, Azura can start to hear the crickets sing outside her penthouse, and the hooting of an old barn owl she'd seen a couple times on the fly.

Summer's third night is fast approaching, and for once, Azura can't wait for it to come. Sleep lowers her eyelids astray; but she knows she can't let them go any further.

"Hey, Charlotte...I think I might go to bed now..."

Charlotte stopped herself mid-sentence, before clicking her tongue in understanding. She was on a roll in completely _gushing_ over Arthur Rodgers for his _stellar_ performance in _Captain America: Civil War,_ until getting cut off by her friend.

 _"Well, alright, Azura. You be careful tonight, okay?"_

She nodded sleepily. "I promise to do so. Goodbye, Charlotte."

 _"Toodles, bitch."_

Hanging up, Azura finally rested her phone on the counter (after laughing a bit over Charlotte's ridiculous goodbye), crossing over into the spacious area of the living room where the couch was kindly waiting for her to crash onto it.

Later on, in the dead of night, the _"man of the hour"_ would finally return from a long day at work, seeking warmth in her arms, her hair, and the slowed heartbeats thrumming in her chest.

Anticipation gnawed at her hands while she flipped though channels left and right on the TV, hoping to find something decent enough to distract her from the unbearable wait till midnight.

When everything, _hopefully_ , would change for the better.

* * *

Something didn't settle right in Leo's stomach after he and Garon finally leave the Tokugawa house in the light of the evening, still waiting for Camilla and Elise to return home after a long Sunday afternoon.

The intuition hadn't come up until halfway through three o'clock, when Sumeragi told of an embarrassing story as to how Garon had accidentally spilled water over his pants while Mikoto was preparing lunch. He started thinking about it again when Ryouma had voluntarily shown him his artwork upstairs (and in the corner, near the closest window, Leo could've sworn he saw a portrait of a woman that looked _just_ like Camilla), and again when Sakura taught him how to read palms in the simplest way possible.

Leo thought his intuition came into play from the way that Garon smiled at Sumeragi when they left; a somewhat resolute smile, though still missing something. He had overlooked it before when they shook hands, but lately, it was becoming even more obvious to him.

Now that he knew that Iago—the _ugly_ old fool who creeped him out the minute they'd met—had involved himself in their friendship, something felt terribly strange and off putting.

Leo knew his father well enough to know that grudges were often hard to let go of. Even if he said _he_ was fine, he could tell he wasn't. Even if he said _everything_ was fine, Leo _knew_ it wasn't.

Could something that happened over thirty years ago be solved so _quickly?_ (Even the _soap operas_ didn't go that route.) Their reconciliation felt hurried; as if his father was only trying to _get it out of the way._

"Father."

He addressed him plainly, mouth full of potato chips. (It's the only thing he was willing to eat so late in the evening.) "I have a question."

Garon raises his eyes towards his son, flipping though a carefully wrapped newspaper left out on the doorstep earlier that morning. Meanwhile, Keaton slouched miserably on the carpet floors, waiting worriedly for Camilla and Elise to return. He'd been whimpering ever since five o'clock.

"What do you want?" He asks, skimming through an article about the recent stock market crash up in Tallahassee. "I'm trying to find out if my debt's getting higher..."

"You can check it _later_ , I'm sure." Leo whisked it out of his hands when he least expected it, setting it down on the table. "I wanted to ask you about Mr. Tokugawa."

Leo could tell Garon was annoyed already, choosing to hold off on finishing his sentence before he struck a nerve too soon. His father's voice is low, deep enough to send chills down his spine. "And you're bringing this up _because_..."

 _It's obvious, isn't it?_

"Well...I don't believe you when you say you're friends with him again."

It came out more blunt than he wanted it to sound, but Leo needed to get the point across somehow. Garon paused midway through sipping a glass of water, looking at his son with a sketchy stare–but otherwise, he said nothing to deny it.

"Go on."

Surprise grew fast on Leo's face—but as Garon had prompted, he continued anyway.

"Judging from what I heard...I don't think you're really okay with that happened as you said you were. Iago stole your best friend, didn't he? Weren't you _angry_ at him?"

Garon sighed, turning the page to find mountains of classified ads littering the remainder of the paper. "I'm not answering that."

"...How did he become friends with you?"

"By chance."

Leo's eyebrows furrow in frustration—by now, he's almost certain that his father is only messing with him. "Well, what do you mean, _by chance?"_ He asks.

"It means what it means. Going by the fact that you _do_ know what chance means."

" _Why_ can't you tell me?"

"Because _I_ don't want to."

 _What?_

Before Leo can say anything more—" _Father, you're not being very honest."_ —Garon was already on his way to the couch, flipping channels over and over until he stumbled halfway through the middle of a new episode of _The Shepherds_ , as if it were his excuse to get out of the conversation.

" _Dammit_ , Leo," he spat under his breath. "You made me miss it."

"Father..." A sigh escapes his lips. "Are you _seriously_ going to watch that? _Now?"_

From the corner of his eyes, he could almost see Garon smirk. "Yes, I am," He replied, patting the seat next to him. "Now, be quiet."

Leo hesitates, thinking cautiously over what he was about to do. Sitting down and watching soap operas with his father was rare—often, Garon was a huge TV hog, and hardly ever let anyone else really enjoy watching a show with him unless he allowed them the privilege. (Elise was the same way, but with weird travel shows on the weather channel.)

This could be _very_ bad.

But since Leo was _well_ accustomed to everything that _could_ go wrong already, he took up Garon's offer and sat next to him, feeling jittery and out of place.

. _..I should've went upstairs._

* * *

The scenery is dark, and unusually quiet this time around. Wiry branches of crooked hunch uncomfortably overhead, foreseeing nothing but danger coming Chrom's way.

But of _course_ , Chrom was too desperate for Sumia's love to even notice them—even after getting whacked in the face with a branch he'd accidentally ran into.

According to the mediocre plot line that even a toddler could understand, Chrom hadn't seen Sumia ever since Maribelle had barged in on their last night out, noticing that she'd been ignoring him— _finally_ —in the small time skip of a week, since the show itself was too lazy to do everything on a day by day basis.

 _"Sumia!"_ He screamed rather stupidly, cursing the air that obviously didn't respond. **_"Suuuuumiiiiiaaaaa!"_**

Leo rolled his eyes while propping his shoulders on the edge of the couch, unknowingly intrigued. _Who wrote this crap?_

"...Does Camilla _really_ watch this?"

Garon shrugged, sipping more water. Truth be told, he only wished Leo would be _quiet already_ so he could hear. "I guess so."

Keaton sat up from his gloomy spot near the doorway at the sound of Chrom's scream, dolefully pawing his way around the corner to sulk heavily in Garon's lap.

"Chrom doesn't exactly make much sense to me..." Leo murmurs, watching the supposed prince trudge around in dirt and mud. "Why is he so... _whiny?"_

"You're asking the wrong person."

Chrom's inevitable whining resumes as he ventures further into the woods. His face is streaked with tears as rain _conveniently_ begins to fall, soaking him entirely. He only wants to tell Sumia he _loves_ her, and that he's sorry for his shitty taste in proper jewelry.

He _also_ wanted to tell her that he was a much better option for marriage than all the other men in the army, because he was the main character, and therefore got noticed more. ( _Naturally_.)

The scene changes suddenly right as Chrom was about to kneel onto the ground, starting a cringeworthy monologue that lasted a good five minutes or so. During that time, the shade of the crooked branches fades into the wooden interior of a small, wooden cottage, surrounded by big, waxy candles outlining the path to the living room.

Rose petals and pink peonies litter the illuminated hallways and tabletops, leading all the way to a blonde haired man draped questionably on the couch. A rose is caught seductively in his mouth as the sound of violas and cellos play about in the background.

His tanned chest is completely bare, save for the garden of peonies layered over _bulging_ abs and shiny biceps, sparkling with actual glitter— _gold_ glitter, like the sun.

... _Should I be here?_

Leo blinked a couple times, glancing at Garon while he was distracted. His face only blanched more so upon realizing that he was grinning like there was no tomorrow.

Leo, on the otherhand, felt like a total _wimp_.

 _I'm a man,_ he thought. _I'm a man. And I can watch this. I'm a man, and I can watch this..._

 _"Hey, babe!"_ The man slurs drowsily. _"What's taking you so long, yo?"_

 _I'm a man._

A woman's cheery voice fills the empty space in the house—and for a moment, Leo was almost certain that he started hearing the soft serenade of a _guitar_ in the distance.

 _"I'm sorry, Vaike!"_ She calls, rather suggestively. _"It's just taking me a little while to get all **this** off..."_

Leo shivered when Vaike's eyes lower bewitchingly, while Garon's grin grew even larger.

 _I. Am. A. **Man.**_

Vaike stands up, letting the peonies fall, leaving him bare and sparkly—but he still had his boxers on. " _Ohhhh, I see, yo,_ " he murmurs. _"Do you need me to like, come up there with you and...help~?"_

 _"Ooooh, please do! You're so talented with your **hands** , after all..."_

Vaike walks upstairs upon her answer, opening the nearest door slightly, even as Leo tried to hide his face halfway with his hand. Garon chuckled at the sight, rubbing Keaton behind the ears as he barked in shared amusement.

 _Leo's such a wuss._

Peeping through the door, the camera messily zooms into long, brown hair, and a fully clothed woman fingering her hands through a complex set of flowers and twigs. All along the floor, there were leftovers of torn branches and rose petals left in hundreds of scattered piles, illuminated by the candles placed clumsily around the room.

Bottles of glitter circle around her as if she were in the center of an alchemical sigil, spilling out in all kinds of weird colors.

Vaike whistles playfully, nudging the girl as she concentrated heavily on her newest creation—a half done _flower crown_ , needing only a couple more daisies and daffodils. (But unfortunately, all she had were roses. Thank the producers who ran out last minute.)

" _Hi, Vaike!"_ She grins. _"Can you get this real fast so I can get all this glitter off now?"_

 _"Yo, Sumia!"_ He hoots, grabbing a flower by the thorns. _"And sure thing! You're really outdoing yourself for the Vaike, aren't you?"_

Confusion had never been so apparent on Leo's face.

Sumia giggles, like she usually did—without much emotion, except for looking good in the camera. She always looked good in the camera; looking decent was uncalled for. _"Well, sweetie, I have to make sure you look good for tonight..."_ Her voice went husky as she looked up again. _"For...you know... **strategic** purposes."_

Vaike grinned. _"Oh yeah, I totally get you. When's number three gonna show up?"_

 _"A bit later. I haven't decided how I want to position myself, though."_

 _"Easy,"_ Vaike sneers. _"Right on top of me. That way, Stahl can get still get your **sexy** side, yo."_

More giggles erupt from her lips; any more, and Leo would've felt the need to rip his hair out.

 _"Oh, I see what you mean!"_ Sumia placed the flower crown on Vaike's head, smiling like a good little angel. " _Golly, I hope this all works out, then. Just promise me you'll actually hold still when Stahl starts drawing us, okay? It's for a very important project in his art class."_

 _"Totally!"_

 _The Shepherds_ faded away into a commercial, leaving Leo, Garon, and Keaton alone on the couch. Garon leaned back in his seat, still grinning like a shady teenager. "Your thoughts, Leonardo?"

Leo swallowed a wad of spit that hadn't been swallowed since the show had started, looking at his father with an uneasy frown. (From the looks of it, it seemed like _disgust_.)

"Well, why does he say _"yo"_ so much?" He began, before escalating even further. "And why was he half naked? Why is the acting so _bad?_ Why is the _writing_ so bad? I don't understand..."

With only his mind descending into the gates of utter confusion, Leo is left in the middle of Garon's barbaric laughter, contemplating what _godforsaken_ deity _possessed_ him to watch through five minutes of cringe.

In the driveway outside, he could start to hear the soft hum of a car pulling up near the garage. Keaton's ears perk up at the noise as well, for he practically leapt out of Garon's lap, and barreled down the hallway in loud barks of excitement.

He prayed to the gods that it was his sisters.

* * *

 **Tune in next time for another chapter filled with weird shenanigans and embarrassing romance—on the house.**

 **Anyway, thanks (again, and again) for all the support, guys :)**

 **Take care!**

 **(Also, shout out to that one beautiful anon spamming my inbox with _beyond_ hilarious reviews. Thanks for making my day, dude.)**


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

On the rickety floorboards of the old front porch, the lights hanging by a mere thread of wire are terribly dim—flickering on, flickering off; like the dangers of old age—but it's still enough for Ryouma to see clearly in the night, waiting for something good to come.

In his lap is a sketchbook, worn down with wear and tear—but the ink pens held so tightly in his hands are still intact. Kagerou sent them to him in the mail once while she was studying abroad–a premier brand of calligraphy pens, used only by the " _best_ ".

Ryouma hardly ever used the pens for that very reason alone; the quality was almost too pure to even _fathom_ , as if one misstep in his millisecond journey to draw a line would cause it to dry out entirely.

It was also because of the fact that he was so used to painting, that drawing with pens felt almost foreign. But tonight, Ryouma felt strangely inclined to take them out of its little compact casing and try them out for a spin.

The vision of a muse brews around in his head as he flips open through slightly chewed pages in his sketchbook. (He wanted to give his honorary gratitude to Nishiki.) A bare page is found as soon as the light flickers off again, burning a muddy yellow. It reminds Ryouma of urine, which makes him sigh. Because that was a _very_ weird thought.

As he takes out the first pen—one with a medium thickness, and a felt tip; the _default_ one, if you will—his mind becomes centered on a single person; a person he's only seen a couple times on the fly, but never thoroughly.

Ryouma's wrist glided across the paper in short, even strokes; in seconds, he had the base of the head, neck, and shoulders—speed was always on his side when he needed the basics. He thinks long and hard about their eyes, and what made them so _exquisite_ ; even in the summer heat. They loop on the sketched lines and circles framing the paper—eyelids, pupils, irises—all at once.

Their eyebrows are thick, but meticulously waxed. Ryouma keeps his strokes long and sharp over the lids of their eyes; shading it purely black as he went.

His thoughts stop short upon thinking about their hair—long, and wavy like the ocean. He wished his could run his fingers through each strand, wondering if his earlier intuition on it feeling like silk was true.

The soft revving of a car pulling into the driveway opposite of himself prompts him to look up from his sketchbook, and into the night being illuminated by two identical beams of light flashing on the garage.

Was someone coming home late?

Ryouma leans backward and lies in wait, hoping the flickering of the light above him would finally fizz out and camouflage him in the darkness. Thin heels clack onto the pavement as he door opens, letting out the background noises of music from the radio.

He sees a yellow dress, barely so, and _red_ , spilled carelessly at its hem.

A woman emerges, wonky in the knees, murmuring barely coherent slurs under her breath. She slammed the door of her car back with a hard shove; making no attempt to check if she'd broken the window. Another girl comes out from the other side—dizzy, as if she'd overdosed on _apple juice._ Her hair fell about in tousles and tangles, reaching her back; but the light purple highlights in her hair confirm Ryouma of one universal discovery.

It was _Elise_.

Ryouma held in his breath to keep in his surprise. Who was _Elise_ with, so late at night?

She wasn't Sakura, and he certainly had no business acting as her elder brother; but for her sake, he's quite worried.

 _Camilla?_

The elder girl didn't seem too hot, for she bounded across the walkway with a shake in her step. Her purse dangles from her arm, swaying as she hiccuped, and burped. ( _Very_ unladylike; but Ryouma finds it strangely appealing.)

His sketchbook falls off his lap and onto the floor with a loud thwap as he stands up, trying to be quiet. On the porch, the sound echoes even _further_ –like a gunshot rung out in the air. (Well, not _exactly_ that loud; but loud enough to startle someone out of their wits.)

 _Shit, shit, shit._

Ryouna wanted to run back into the house before Camilla even realized it—but alas, her senses are too _sharp_ ; too _quick_.

She whips her head around at the sound of the noise—making glassy eye contact with the foolish young man who'd dared to spy on her and her sister walking up to their doorway. Her hearing was like a hawk's eyes—always accurate, and _never_ wrong.

Camilla's eyes narrow as she squints harder, scooting Elise further up the walkway to go open the door.

"... _Ryouma_?" She murmured hoarsely. "...You _handsome_ man. Spying on a woman so late at night, I presume?"

Her words catch him off guard; sending pangs of fear in his chest. Was it okay to even try and have a normal conversation?

"Y-You're...talking to _me?_ Oh, well..." _Think, think..._ "...I was hoping to ask something of you."

In the same moment that her gaze softens, Ryouma takes in the voluminous spectacle of her hair shifting as she turned. Her face softens up; but her eyes are still glossy. "Ask something of me?" She mumbled. _"And how!"_

Ryouma scratched his head. _Is that the right English?_ "...Are you alright, Camilla? You don't seem..."

 _Sober. At all._

Camilla holds her head back in laughter— _oh_ , he was _so_ funny—twirling her hair around with a strange smile on her face. Clearly, something's up; but Ryouma can't bring himself to say much else.

Winking flirtateously, Camilla practically begs him to keep guessing. "Come _towards_ me, Ryouma—and perhaps, you shall find out."

It reminded him of those games Saizo used to play all the time when no one was looking in their dorm together—all the way in Japan, so far away. The player, in this case being Ryouma himself, had _two_ choices–both life changing, in some strange, unordinary way.

 _A, Approach Camilla,_ like a normal human being. Or, B.

 _Run_. Run, and lock the doors. Run, lock the doors, run up the steps, and crash in his bed before Sumeragi or Mikoto even realize he'd been outside.

But option B was _pretty_ rude on its own, and much to his curiosity, he went with his gut. Ryouma awkwardly stepped down the porch steps, and crossed into her yard as she burped again.

"...Okay. So, will you tell me now?"

Once he's in a good distance away from her—about a couple feet away, Camilla grinned in eager delight. "I'm fine, _completely_ fine," she replies. "In fact, I've never been better. I got a job recently...and I had to have celebrated _properly_ , you know?"

Ryouma smiled nervously. "Is that so? _Congratulations_ , then."

She chortles in an obnoxious slur. "Oh, _thank_ you darling. I was _so_ excited, that I went with my sister and my _ex_ to a wild party...at a _pizza_ place..."

His thoughts halted upon the last sentence. _Ex_ , like the letter X?

 _...I don't think a human can physically interact with a letter...perhaps._

"Your ex? Who would that be?"

Her head tilts to her left, framing over her nose; and as if the world is her personal stage, Camilla frowns like there's no tomorrow. "Oh, my _beautiful_ boy, my dear _child_. The old keeper of this woman's heart and _soul."_

She began to cough aloud, startling Ryouma out of his continuous confusion. Even up close, he couldn't smell any alcohol, booze, or anything of the sort.

What the hell was she on?

"Camilla, I really think you should go home and rest. Hasn't your sister already gone inside?"

"Oh, _Ryouma_..."

She kindly ignored his proposition to change the subject, bending on one knee to outstretch her hand to the night sky. "...I grew _old_ of the cage he put me in, you know. My soul cried, _ravaged_ and _hungry_ , for something new. Something... _different."_

Ryouma blinked, before breaking out into a grin. "Are you always so poetic, Camilla?"

Her hands clasp his shirt, trembling from the weight of her purse. "Yes, of course I am. Ryouma, my _dear_ , can't you feel my fear, burning right into you?"

"Um..."

Camilla reaches his shoulder, lips dangerously close to his own—and right when he thinks the end is near, she maneuvers up to his ear just as quick. "I've _killed_ a man, my sweet." She whispers. _"Dead, gone._..the old keeper of my heart and soul."

... _What?_

Ryouma wanted her to seriously be joking. Theatrics aside, she seemed pretty resolute.

"...You didn't kill anyone." He murmurs, almost on the verge of laughter. "That's impossible."

But it could explain the red on her dress.

Camilla shakes her head against the elder boy's doubt. " _Oh_ , yes I did. In his last dying breath, he said to me... _oh! Woe_ is _me_...woe is..."

She fell onto both knees, knocking her purse off her arm. Its contents spill out onto the grass—and within the pile of crumbled receipts and empty chip bags, there are two cartons of a suspicious drink, crushed into a narrow shard of plastic. Red liquid from a half bitten straw stains her wallet, and five dollar bills.

Ryouma hesitantly picks up the peculiar drink, unraveling it to read the label. It was a _Minute Maid_ juice box, with her name scribbled across the top. A note from "Izana" was trapped in between the fold of the carton, but it was so badly moistened that the letters were smudged through.

...Fruit punch—artificially flavored, can also be found on the hem of Camilla's dress.

Or, in her case, her ex's " _blood_."

* * *

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _LEO_

 _LEO_

 _ **OH MY GOD**_

 _LEO GUESS WHAT_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _ **ShHHHHhHH**_

 _SHUT UP I WANNA TELL HIM_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oh, Odin, you **silly** toddler._

 ** _I'm_** _telling him. Go somewhere, will you?_

* * *

Their enthusiasm upon his return cracks a wide smile over Leo's face. Maybe he needed this after all.

After a nice bubble bath, with lavender soap, Leo feels almost _revived_ , renewed, and all of the above. He retreated to his room the moment Elise came in and nearly decked her father on the ground in a frantic hug, swinging Keaton around in her arms until she got too dizzy to stand.

She told Garon that Camilla was still outside—and before the elder man had a chance to question exactly where'd they'd gone so late at night, Elise zoomed up the flight of stairs on the whim of her excitement to her room, and shut the door after Keaton followed her. (And before even that, she'd kissed Leo right on the cheek; a goodnight kiss, in case she went out like a light in the next thirty minutes.)

Valla lingers on his mind after he slips on his pajamas, turning on the lamp in his room to get some proper light inside. When Leo crashed onto his bed, still smelling like honey lavender and apple cinnamon, he hit his knee hard on the surface of his laptop.

Feigning as if it hadn't hurt at all, Leo flopped onto his back and opened it to the home screen. (Still, no one had any idea that his desktop background was of nothing but flowers wilting in the rain.)

Truthfully, he'd been missing Niles and Odin all day; he wanted to tell them about his time with Sakura, and how her father had somehow known his own in high school.

* * *

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _You go somewhere, Niles._

 _You always get to tell Leo the cool stuff!_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Because you're too slow!_

 _Anyway, I'm going to tell him now._

* * *

But frankly, they were extremely excited already. It was better (for his sake) to let it subside before started blabbering about himself like a narcissistic fool.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _What is it?_

* * *

He only has to wait a couple of seconds until Niles replies with exceptional speed—and the mental image of Odin slamming his fist down in defeat flashes in his mind.

* * *

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Valla got an giant update today, Big Daddy._

 _And now, you can marry people. Other players, regardless of the gender._

 _...For **strategic** purposes, of course._

* * *

His eyes grow wide with surprise.

Marriage?

* * *

 _ **(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr**_

 _Seriously?_

 _..._

 _But, I thought this was a game about...strategy._

 _Are we not doing that anymore?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Of course we are, Leo!_

 _It's just...well..._

 _The fans are getting pretty thirsty these days, I guess._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oh please, this is barely a problem._

 _It'd be thirst if they'd added some sort of petting game. You know, like-_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _ **ANYWAY**_

* * *

Leo sighed to himself, feeling weirdly intrigue in their conversion, until a notification popped up in the corner of his screen—someone new had involved themselves in the chat.

A good idea, or a bad one; it was all up to Belka.

* * *

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _Hello._

* * *

The new mental image of Niles scrambling to type something alluring upon her arrival pops up in Leo's head, and the thought makes him giggle.

* * *

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _BELKA_

 _ **BABE**_

 _ **(1) Prince of Brynhildr **_

_Evening, Belka._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Hey, Bel!_

 _Ignore Niles, he's in one of his moods again._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Ignore the nerd, toots._

 _He's only mad because you're **madly** in love with me._

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _ **SHHHhhH**_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**._

 _Hello Odin._

 _Hello Leo._

 _And..._

 _Hello, Niles._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Belka, my sweet princess. I hope your evening is as good as mine._

 _You remember what I told you the moment we met?_

 _I said, " **Damn** , your avatar looks sexy as hell."_

 _And I still do._

 _Belka, you are the light of my life, and the apple of my eye. Gods, even your name sends shivers and shit down my spine._

 _Marry me, doll face. And together, our stats'll improve by 50%._

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _So, as I was going to say._

 _I had a good day today._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _BELKA_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _I'm literally crying_

* * *

The chat erupted into chaos as Belka tries to justify herself on missing out on Niles' nonsensical proclamation of love through one word responses, wishing she could hear the joyous laughter of both Odin and Leo.

It lasts until the clock strikes seven, when the laughter finally dies down, and Garon yells from downstairs for Leo to be quiet.

* * *

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _...So, Leo!_

 _Did you ever go on your little date with Sakura~?_

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Holy crap, I almost forgot._

 _How'd it go with your **girlfriend** , hot shot?_

 _Did you serenade her with your manly charms?_

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _Girlfriend?_

 _I was not aware Leo had found a romantic partner._

* * *

 _Finally, someone asks._

His hands were already glued to the keyboard as he processes his thoughts all together at once—itching for a chance to bullshit his way for a good summary without creating a wall of text describing Sakura's eyes.

Leo felt his cheeks burn upon the memory, typing it out for his friends as if it were a novella waiting to be written.

He stops short on words he thinks are totally cheesy, backspacing like mad until he's comfortable enough to leave it be.

Leo waited, hesitant on sending; but his index finger is too squeamish to hold back any longer.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _We watched the clouds together._

 _At first I was kind of nervous, because I'd never done something like that with a girl, all by myself. But she's so kind, and extremely friendly. Sitting next to her, just watching them go by was like...heaven. For a while, it didn't even feel real. We held each other's hand, because she knew how to read palms. Her touch feels nice. It's sort of soft, like you're running your hands through fluffy bedsheets. When she was telling me about my palms, I felt like she understood me, you know? In some strange, psychological reality that I don't know of._

 _Every time she looks at me...I almost want to...throw up. Not out of disgust, but because all I want to do is tell her how amazing she is._

 _Do you understand what I mean?_

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _...Oh my god._

 _ **Marry** the girl, already._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Does this mean this Sakura girl is my mom, Big Daddy?_

 _Ooooh, my new big **mama**._

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _Niles, no._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Seriously **.**_

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _I think your words are very sweet, Leo._

 _If I were to ever confess my love to anyone, I might use something to that effect._

 _...It has given me the strange courage to do so now, actually._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _Now? For some jerk in Russia?_

 _So **I'M** not good enough for you, Belka?_

 _Wow, and after I called you the apple of my eye._

 _That's a **classic** , you know._

 ** _(1) TheChosenOne_**

 _Niles, she doesn't want you. Sheesh._

 _Don't be a baby about it. ;^)_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _I'm killing you in our next battle._

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _Hey, calm down._

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _Yes, please do._

 _I am wondering as to how I should phrase it, and you are distracting me._

 _ **(1) KillerSadist**_

 _Oh, sure._

 _So you can cheat on me with some..._

 _Some..._

 ** _Polar bear._**

 _ **(1) DragonAssassin**_

 _Honestly._

 _Niles, you are not the apple of my eye, and vice versa._

 _You are also not the light of my life._

 _You are more to me than that._

 _Do you realize that?_

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _...Wha?_

 _ **(1) TheChosenOne**_

 _Oh snap._

 _Leo, you thinking what I'm thinking?_

* * *

The boy grinned.

* * *

 ** _(1) PrinceOfBrynhildr_**

 _Shhhh..._

* * *

A pause assumes the chat for a bit, until Belka's next response catches the three boys off guard.

* * *

 ** _(1) DragonAssassin_**

 _I have known you, Odin, and Leo, for two months. And in those two months, I've found myself strangely attracted to your..._

 _I'm still thinking about what exactly it is._

 _But anyhow. Whenever you are on, my heart begins to beat faster than usual–about two skips per second, instead of one. You always seem to make me happier than I usually am when you greet me with your usual foolishness. It is a strange feeling, that I wish would go away._

 _Because no matter what I do, I know we cannot be together. You and I live too far apart to assume mutual responsibility for our...infatuation. We do not even know what the other looks like. It is too dangerous, even if I am ... **infuriatingly** infatuated as well. Please do not take this literal, Niles._

 _I **do** want to love you._

 _But I cannot._

 ** _(1) KillerSadist_**

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

* * *

Words could not even _begin_ to describe the chaos that ensued.

* * *

 ** _Notes_**

 ** _And how!_ —American 1920's slang, meaning, _"I strongly agree!/"I think so too!"_**


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

"So...you really _were_ messing with me..."

It was the newest understatement of the year, and Ryouma had been counting _many_ already.

Here he was, sitting on his porch steps with a girl who'd been on her knees only moments before, while soaked with fruit punch. The memory of her clinging to his shirt for dear life would never leave him, even if he wanted to forget it. (But he didn't _want_ to forget, so it was okay.)

The memory of her completely losing her sanity as if she'd gone out drinking would never leave him either—it was so _bizarre_ that it almost seemed _unreal_ , and straight out of a bad soap opera.

Camilla meanwhile, couldn't help but guffaw behind her hand, still laughing over the fact that she'd completely fooled Ryouma into thinking she was...

...Well, _whatever_ she was. Halfway through the act, she started running out of ideas last minute, and switched to classic Shepherds theatrics instead. ( _Very_ effective stuff, if you did it right.)

Camilla hadn't planned on using Laslow as a last resort, however. It was total improv, on her part. (And even _then_ , her whole act itself was improv—she and Elise were supposed to prank _Garon_ , anyway.)

"Oh, you should've seen your _face!_ You were so confused, and lost..."

He meets her joyous amusement over his bewilderment with a nervous smile; a little embarrassed, all in all. Never in his life had he felt so flabbergasted—left with nothing to say, aside from, _"What's going on?"_

But, as much as he wanted to brush it all off and let the mystery stay wedged in his thoughts forever, he _had_ to know how she'd even done it.

"So, the juice on your dress..." He began, slow as a feather. "Was that all it _really_ was? A-And, the _note_..."

 _That weird note, from that Izana guy._

Camilla chuckled. "You mean the one from my employer? Oh, it's simple."

She leaned back till her hair pooled over the top step on the porch, grinning slyly as she stared up at the stars. Ryouma noticed how her eyes seemed to twinkle in the moon's light, and he made a note to himself to add that in his drawing. (Given that it hadn't gotten smudged when he dropped it.)

" _He_ was the one who had told me of such a thing," She replied, "Telling me I seemed like a rather good actress; enough to make anyone believe _anything_ I said."

Ryouma could believe _that_ , without a doubt. "I see..."

" _Mhm_. He wanted me to try out this prank, and tell him your reaction as soon as I found the time. And by the _gods_ , he was a _genius!"_

Her laugh was almost contagious when she let it out again, causing Ryouma to chuckle a little bit to himself.

"Ah. So, the boy you were talking about being... _killed_..."

She cut him off politely with a finger wagged right in his face. "A jest from my _beloved_ Izana, again. Originally, it was _supposed_ to be a scenario where I was going to ask someone to help me kill another, but it would've caused a _huge_ discrepancy."

"Why's that?"

Camilla raised a brow in his direction, as if the answer was already _painfully_ obvious to begin with. "Well, I _can't_ ask to have someone be killed if the blood's _already_ on my dress. What's the fun in killing someone _twice_ , anyway?"

Ryouma didn't _dare_ answer that question.

"...How long did it take you two to plan all this out?"

Camilla's reply comes lightning quick, as if she were waiting all night for the question. "Thirty minutes," she says, as a matter-of-factly. "I was _counting_."

Ryouma was astonished, but he tried his best not to show it so forwardly. Truthfully, he was fighting for a chance to say something more–but the words didn't want to come, for some reason.

"Well, I'm just glad you're... _you_. And not...s-some actress putting on a show, or something. You know what I mean?"

He saw her pause at his words—hesitant, like she hadn't been expectant on hearing it. "But Ryouma, I barely even _know_ you. How can you know how I act, if we've never even conversed like this?"

She had a good point.

Ryouma bent over to snag a random stalk of grass below him, finding it more easy on the eyes than the flirty gleam in Camilla's stare. "I can just _feel_ it, I guess," He mutters, turning it over in his hands. "You don't seem like the type to weird out people like that...unless it's for a prank, like you said."

"Uh- _huh_..."

"...You seem like a very calm, and diligent person. Someone who thinks of others as much as themselves."

He doesn't realize how dark his face had gotten until Camilla's lips shrug into an amused grin. "I never knew you thought so _highly_ of me, Ryouma. I'm almost flattered."

His eyes darted from her to the ground, and back again. " _W-Well_ , I...I assumed it so. You were the one who baked those cookies...that happened to be _very_ good..."

"I'm pleased to know you liked them so much."

"And..." _Think, think..._ "...I'd always thought...that you'd make a good muse for my next painting."

Ryouma wanted to stab himself in the chest with a pencil—the one that was coincidentally shoved in his pants pockets, no less. Of all the things to possibly mention, so late at night, it had to be _that_.

Camilla dropped her mouth open in sudden wonder. "A painting?"

 _Shut up, Ryouma._

"... _Yes_." He was _about_ to comment on the many sketches he made of her based from memory alone, all stuffed in a small section of his sketchbook—but that sounded too creepy. "It's a... _side_ project, so I can get accepted into the college near here." _My last one get wrecked by the moving van._

He noticed the sudden tinge of pink flushing on her cheeks, as if she were actually embarrassed. It's a nice change of pace for once, and Ryouma was almost proud of himself.

"I see..." She murmurs, light and airy. "Then, if that is the case...would Thursday be a good day for you?"

His eyes widen in confusion when she smiles yet again. " _Thursday_?"

"Yes, you silly man. How else will you paint me up close?" Camilla flipped her hair back as she posed elegantly in front of him, puckering her lips as if she were about to kiss him.

He kindly waves that thought out of his head. There were more important things at hand, anyway. _"R-Right_...well, perhaps. I'll have to check my schedule." You know, the one that only exists in the middle of nowhere. "If I do...I'll let you know."

Camilla smiled at him one last time, before resting a casual hand upon his shoulder.

"Consider it a date, dear."

A smile blooms on his face as she turns on her heels; leaving the premises with a kick in her step.

For a minute, he feels a strange presence still lingering on his shoulder; and out of curiosity, he presses his hand on top of it. _Paper_ , as small as an average sticky note, crumbles up in his grasp, startling the man out of his wits.

Numbers scrawled in pretty handwriting are written in thick red pen—along with a small note written in loopy, and slightly sloppy cursive.

 _Call this number, and expect a surprise._

* * *

Azura laid peacefully on the living room couch of her penthouse, snoring the night away on her backside with the television still blaring sound in the corner.

Every night, he's seen this scenario on more than one occasion. On Mondays, it wasn't as frequent—and Tuesday's and Wednesdays were the same. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday consisted of the same situation, but inside their bedroom. Tonight was a bit different, given the added stress of the concert that was nearing. Her hands were still glued over her stomach, as if the pain was still there.

Suzukaze—or simply, _Kaze_ —Kirigakure sighed, setting grocery bags on the verge of breaking apart tiredly on the kitchen counter. If he's lucky enough, he can usually sneak the groceries to their respective homes without waking Azura up. She needed as much sleep as possible.

Work at the post office was always hard work throughout the day—and he wasn't even the one _delivering_ the mail.

Kaze was a mail _sorter_ —and although it sounded like a completely _worthless_ job in the eyes of his brother, he took it _very_ seriously. Mail sorting was like a form of _art_ to him, as everything had its own way around it-the addresses, the stamps, and even the names, always scribbled on both ends of the envelope.

He knew more people by the named written in colored ink pens than he knew in real life. He knew that Tiki Māori—one of the _greatest_ mediums on TV—still sent countless letters to President Lowell in the White House, all the way from the Bahamas, for his nickname, _"Mar-Mar"_ , would still be written in squiggly black letters. He also knew that Reina Furukawa still put her stamps on the left side of the envelope, instead of the right—Kaze normally had to snag a new one from the fanny pack strapped on his waist; filled to the _brim_ with stamps.

Going back to the grocery bags, he opens the fridge to switch out an old jug of milk with a new one, pouring chunky liquid down the drain afterward. The noise from egg cartons and pack of bacon being stacked on the top shelf stirs Azura from her sleep, groaning at the light from the kitchen now filtering into her line of sight.

" _Kaze_..."

Her voice is soft, drifting away like a feather. It's like an angel's call, lifting him out of his midnight slump.

Coming home to Azura was one of his favorite things to look forward to whenever he left the post office. Lately, however, the things he was hearing about her were getting _stranger_ and _stranger_ with every passing day.

For the past two months, there'd been speculation in the tabloids (the ones that he usually ignored in the checkout section of the supermarket, of course) about her being _pregnant_. Some even said she had another " _friend_ ", who'd knocked her up without even knowing it.

Kaze wasn't stupid enough to believe it, though—he _knew_ that Azura was _his_.

The girl reached for him feebly as he settled onto the couch next to her, letting her fingers claw around his shoulders. Her hair drenched over his lap when her legs lounged on top of him. (Even though he ended up feeling like a life sized body pillow, he didn't mind much.)

"Welcome back, Kaze," Azura whispered, tracing her finger tiredly over his chest. "How was your day?"

"It was good," He replied. "How were your rehearsals?"

He could feel her shift uncomfortably in his lap, as if she were dreading the need to answer. He'd only ever seen her that way a couple times over the course of the year; and every time, Kaze worried over it like it was a sign of the apocalypse.

"They... _could've_ been better. I didn't do as well as I'd hoped."

She told him about the many times the manager cut her off halfway through her voice exercises to comment on the strange _twang_ in her voice whenever she hit a high note, and her obvious _"lack of enthusiasm."_

Kaze listened to her every word, twirling her hair around on his finger. It used to be an accidental occurrence until it became a habit—Azura's hair was just so _addicting_ to hold, and it smelled good too.

He tries to lift the sour mood with a kind smile, and a pat on her shoulders. "I'm sure you'll have a better time tomorrow."

Though Azura returned the gesture with her own smile, Kaze could tell she was _barely_ trying. "I'm _not_ so sure..." She climbed off his lap after some time and sank over to the other side of the couch, stretching out from the pain scarring her backside. "Can I... _tell_ you something?"

"What is it?"

He saw her lips quiver slightly as her eyes wavered towards the floor, grabbing the remote to turn down the volume of the TV. Whatever she was about to say, it was _pretty_ important.

Kaze had a feeling he knew what was to come—for her hand rested on her stomach hesitantly, circling around over and over again. The rumors he'd seen spreading around in the grocery store were beginning to make sense—" _ **Songstress Seen Hiding Face at Women's Clinic!", "Incestuous Romance Sparks a Thrilling Love Triangle! Cousins from D.C Expecting Number Three!"**_ , and the most obvious: **_"Is Azura Lazuli Pregnant?"_**

 _No one_ knew about Kaze—and frankly, he wanted to keep it that way. He's well aware of what happened in Tokyo, but Azura had never said a thing about it after.

He saved her the trouble of having to admit it, by placing a hand over her own, while his chest thrummed with butterflies

"I know, Azura."

Her face drained itself of all known color as she looked up to meet his gaze—soft, yet undeniably serious. "You... _know?_ Know what?"

"Well," Kaze makes sure his voice is calm, as Azura's heartbeat pounds hard against her chest. " _Windmire_ _Weekly_ says you're _expecting_."

Her stomach fell into a massive pit of despair—but for some reason, she was expecting him to be more...

 _Angry_.

"I should've read the signs _faster_ ," He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I apologize for that."

"Kaze..." Azura shook her head, resting a hand on her cheek. What was he even _saying?_ "You don't have to apologize for _anything_ , Kaze. If anything, _I_ should've been the one to have come clean with it. After all, it's _our_..."

The word trails off from her tongue in embarrassment. Could she really say it so bluntly, _right_ in his face?

" _...W-Well_ , it _is_ yours. Mozume set me up with a doctor about a month after it happened..."

Kaze heaved a sigh of relief. Mozume was simply _too good_ for this world. "Do your parents know?"

"No..."

He hummed in thought as her head slowly drifted onto his chest again–rising with contemplation.

He's _scared_ for Azura, but for much different reasons. He's worried about her stomach, and how it'll affect her in the concert, with all the screaming fans and bright, flashing lights. He's worried about the warmth the suddenly rushes to his fingertips when he presses cool hands against her forehead, like a fever waiting to spread.

"Azura, do you want to keep it?"

His voice is quiet, like a pin dropping from the hand. It creeps into Azura's ears softly, lingering until her eyes went wide. "What're you saying?"

"You don't _have_ to keep it if you truly don't want to. It may be a hassle, given your schedule."

 _Right_.

She wished she could've been able to forget her career as a popular singer, pleasing the masses of millions. She wished she could've been able to forget about having a responsibility to entertain, so she could stay at home with Mozume, and focus on the literal human _child_ developing in her body.

But she _also_ wished she could understand Kaze was trying to say—what he was trying to _imply_. He'd always been a considerate man, even after they first met. He only ever went along with things if she was okay with them.

Now, it felt like he was _unsure_ of what he wanted, just like her.

"Are you sure, then? About... _this_..."

Kaze shrugged his shoulders, absentmindedly drifting to her left. "I'm only concerned about you," he murmurs quietly. "You don't have to keep it because of me."

Her mouth parts into a smile, as gentle as the breeze. She could always count on Kaze, no matter where she was.

"Well..."

She whispers her answer softly in the crevice of his ear, as the night drags on to an inevitable close.

* * *

 **Prepare for a _very_ long author's note today.**

 **For starters, I _really_ enjoyed reading all your theories in the past as to who Azura's child's father could be. ****Especially one guest who came up with a theory as to how it could be _Laslow_ —with the exception of one fact, it could almost be pretty believable! ****Hopefully you're satisfied with Kaze, though!**

 **Also, to _LittleMissEmblem_ : I** **don't mind if you send me long reviews! I _always_ love to hear your thoughts, and I really loved what you said from last chapter! ****By all means, _destroy_ my inbox with giant walls of text. :)**

 **One day I feel like posting an epilogue with all the things I was going to do, but ended up scrapping it because I read reviews that gave me other ideas.** **(Seriously, you guys impact this story more than I do.)**

 ** _Surname Refernce_**

 ** _Māori_ —the surname I chose for Tiki, although the actual name itself is not a _real_ surname. ****The _Māori_ were an indigenous Polynesian group of people who arrived to New Zealand from eastern Polynesia as settlers between 1250 and 1300 CE. ****The reason I used it was because in Māori mythology, Tiki is the first man created from the gods Tāne (forests, and birds), and Tūmatauenga (war, fishing, and cooking.)**

 **There was one story that intrigued me about Tiki, where at one point, he became _very_ lonely, and craved company when no one else was around. similar to how Tiki is extremely lonely in Shadow Dragon, having only Bantu to guide her until she meets Marth. ****(But of course, this is only coincidence! I just thought it was cool.)**

 ** _Kirigakure_ —Kaze and Saizo's surname, meaning _"hidden in the mist."_** **This name is derived from the famous _Saizō Kirigakure,_ a legendary ninja whose very existence is still being debated to this day. (Though, most historians think he existed at some point during the " _Warring States_ " period.)**

 **The most famous deed of his was an attempt on the life of Toyotomi Hideyoshi by order of the future shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu. (Shoguns were military dictators, who held more power than even the emperor.)** **Much like how Saizo attempts to kill Kotaro, the daimyo of Mokushu—but for much different reasons than the legend.**

 **Now, about the Warring States period, (Or the _Sengoku_ period, if you'd like to be factual.) It was a rather important period in Japanese history, where social upheaval, political intrigue and near-constant military conflict changed much of the social structure in the country.**

 **While the emperor had the general job description of ruling over Japan, most of his actual power was delegated to the shogunate—meaning, he had complete control over Japan, until feudalism was abolished in 1867.**

 **Overtime however, the shogunate's influence began to dwindle in Japan—and he grew especially unpopular with local daimyo clans, who wanted more of the power to go to them.** **Many of these Lords began to fight uncontrollably with each other, for control over land and influence over the shogunate. Some of the local daimyo became even more ambitious, looking to install their own rule over Japan.**

 **Three of these daimyo, however, would eventually succeed in uniting the country-Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu.**

 ** _Sorry_ for all the information, but like I said before—I thought it was pretty cool. **

**Take care!**


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

Leo stirs awake as Monday morning arises—at the very _crack_ of dawn.

His room is shrouded in complete silence, save for the wind blowing away at wispy branches; causing many leaves to rustle from outside his window. He groans upon realizing that he really _didn't_ need to wake up so early—but the instinct of school kicked in last minute; and that always meant waking up before even the birds.

Flinging away at the air, Leo pat over the low depression made from laying so awkwardly on the bed, looking for his phone. (That was an instinct too, since Elise liked to try and hide it from him almost every morning during the school year.)

Apparently, he's gotten about ten missed calls over the course of an hour—all from the same number.

 _Hm_...

Leo didn't remember anyone ever calling him so late at night; Odin, Niles, and Belka were far from being awake, after all. (But one thing was for certain; Niles was _far_ from being single anymore.)

Thinking of no other good way to spend his morning—since he was too lazy to actually get up—he decided to do what a normal person valuing their lives would not do.

Call the number _back_.

He waits for the phone to ring while he stretched his arms to the sky, turning on the lamp in his room to brighten the gloomy scenery caving in all around him. As the call accepts, Leo can hear a sort of rustling in the background; as if someone had already been rushing themselves _silly_ to answer.

"... _Leo?"_

The voice on the other end—a woman's voice, no less—sounds surprised to know that he even called back. He's hesitant in responding; but apparently, nothing's holding him back.

"... _Yes_." The _first_ mistake in responding to a caller he didn't know. Sitting up in bed, Leo threw his legs over his bedside to shake off the weird tingle in his body. "This is Leo."

The woman breathed in a sigh of relief, as if she'd been trying to figure out his number for days. " _Oh, thank god! I thought you wouldn't have been able to call back..."_

It _sounded_ familiar enough, like he should've known who it was—but alas, Leo's too deprived of being alert to realize it. He clacks his tongue, trying to word his confusion in the most _polite_ way possible. Hopefully, it wasn't a bill collector, or Garon would've killed him.

"Er...may I ask who this is?" He asks, making sure he was quiet enough so no one could hear.

She had paused on the phone, gasping a little in shock. Maybe she'd misheard him; and by the _gods_ , she _prayed_ that she did.

But Sabine knows already that her son probably _hated_ him anyway; it was practically a given, since he never called anymore. "... _It's your mother."_ She whispers, fingering through countless piles of the manuscripts for her novels littering her desk.

Leo's heart stopped as she finished her dying sentence, hiding her hurt tone with a nervous chuckle at the end.

His _mother_ had called him.

 _Ten_ times.

In a _row_.

He had never felt so awful in his life. "M-Mother!" He gasps, holding his phone even tighter. "Gods, I'm so _sorry_..."

 _"It's fine!"_ More papers rustle in the distance. " _It's fine..."_

The situation was as awkward as Leo had made it out to be; with him as silent as ever while listening to his mother breath, and his mother waiting for him to actually talk.

"So...I'm guessing you got a new number, then? I still have your old one..."

 _Unfortunately_...

Sabine groans aloud—and though Leo thought it was towards himself, it was for a whole other reason. _"...Oh, Leo, I'm so sorry."_ She muttered. _"Of course you wouldn't remember me over the phone...I should've never called."_

Her voice seemed troubled by that fact alone, for the troubled grumbles under her breath indicated pure annoyance. (He wouldn't have been very surprised if she hated his guts for never calling her in the first place.)

It reminded him of himself; and he was starting to see where most of his quirks came from.

"Mother, it's fine." Leo sighed, tapping his fingers on his lap. He wished he could see her in _person_ , instead of over the phone; that way, he wouldn't have felt so useless in trying to comfort her with nothing but _words_. "We never get to talk much anyway..."

In between the deadlines for his mother's new novels, Leo never had much of a chance to really converse with Sabine. Their conversations were brief, and terribly short. Too short to call it a time of bonding between mother and child.

" _Yeah..._ "

To hear her voice so early in the morning felt magical; like a good omen was finally making its way towards him.

 _"Your aunts have told me to call...but the timezones are never nice to me..."_ Sniffles can be heard in the places where Sabine leaves off. _"I called your father, but he tells me to stop worrying about it...and to stop calling him so late at night_."

Leo smiled, imagining his father in such a situation. Sabine grew quiet as the morning carried on; with the baby blue flecks of six fifteen beginning to make their way into the pools of darkness fading out into the atmosphere.

 _"I was so worried about you, Leo..."_

He blushed a bit while grinning; feeling his cheeks prickle with warmth. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me, I assure you."

 _"I see_..." A light chuckle is thrown out of the blue, but nothing more is mentioned of the subject. "... _How are you, dear? Are you doing well?"_

"Never been better. What about you?"

 _"Hm...w-well, a bit better than you, maybe. N-Not in that sense, though! Just very...happy."_

Leo snickered, finding his mother's nervousness a bit amusing. "That's good to hear, Mother. I'm glad you're doing well."

She grinned once more. _"So, what've you been up to? Is there anything interesting going on?"_

 _Oh, of course._ Leo runs a hand through his hair, as if what he was about to say was the _best_ thing in the world. "Well, I _guess_ you could say so. The summer's been...slow, at best."

 _"Well, didn't it just start?_

Leo paused. "W-Well, _yes_ , but...it's still rather slow. You'd understand, wouldn't you?"

" _I guess so_..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, until a sudden thought had emerged in her head halfway through the silence. _"O-Oh! That reminds me...your birthday..."_ Sabine hummed from far away. _"Was there anything that you wanted?"_

"Hm?"

Leo hadn't even been thinking about it. Recently, all his thoughts were focused on trivial things—like wondering when the next challenger in Valla was going to appear—and Sakura.

But of _course_ , he couldn't tell his own mother about Sakura yet (given that Garon hadn't already _spilled_ the beans). She'd have probably had a heart attack over the phone if he did.

"No...I don't think I need anything in terms of an object." He muttered. "Rather, a person." _You, maybe?_

Sabine hadn't answered for a bit when Leo had replied; causing him to worry a little. _Did I say something wrong?_

After some time, she begins to speak again—gloomily, as if someone had just died two seconds ago. ".. _Leo, my son, I'm so sorry."_

Confusion riddled his features as Sabine seemed to sigh, sounding rather unimpressed. "What are you apologizing for?"

His mother huffed haughtily on the phone. " _You know I can't ship you a girl from Europe–it's illegal, don't you know?"_

" _W-What?_ " His cheeks darkened faster than he could think. "N-No, Mother, that's _not_ what I m-meant! I don't want a...a..."

Sabine cut him off as Leo failed miserably at trying to formulate proper words. _"But Garon told me you were hitting on girls now! Was that not true?"_

Leo held in his breath, fighting back the urge to scream. He never thought of Garon as a gossip girl, of all things. "Of _course_ it isn't true. Hitting on girls is pathetic, anyway."

" _Ah, I figured. You're a soft little pumpkin..."_

"A...pumpkin?" He was about to sputter out in laughter over the cutesy name. Sabine had always called him that when he was younger; right before she left for Europe permanently on his 7th birthday. He missed the name, for all it was worth.

" _My little baby boy.._." She laughed, sending butterflies to rise in Leo's chest. His mother's voice was already beautiful—but her laugh made it all the more _intoxicating. "I knew you were a gentlemen! I'm happy Garon has raised you well..."_

"Well, you can't forget that you raised me too."

 _"You're too kind to me, Leo..."_ Sabine started sniffling again, holding a tissue to her nose. " _But as much as I'd love to keep talking...I must go now. Be safe for me, okay?"_

Though he was a bit sad over it, Leo had no intention on making his mother feel any worse than she probably already had. "Of course, Mother. I'll make sure of it."

They both hung up with smiles on their faces.

* * *

 **I'm _sooooo_ sorry that this chapter was short; compared to all the others, anyway. But I kinda wanted Leo and Sabine's relationship to be established as a whole in their own snippet of the story; kind of like how chapter 13 was set up.**

 **I imagine Leo's mother as someone who's sort of a worrywart...but also very caring too. He probably got most of his personality from her; including some quirks that he'd rather not mention.**

 **As a profession, Sabine is a popular author who rarely ever talks about her personal life. Due to her rise in popularity in Europe, she moved there to make life a bit more easier for herself; but she wanted Leo to stay with Elise, Camilla, and Xander, for reasons she has yet to explain. They're rather distant from each other, but they still enjoy each other's company whenever they get a chance to talk.**

 **As a writer, it's hard to really delve into the Nohrian mothers; since actual canon states that none of them loved any of their children. But I do like to imagine that Sabine passed on most of her knowledge to Leo, through books and all that good stuff. (I also like to think that regardless of canon, the mothers still loved them unconditionally, but that's fine too.)**

 **Also, in case you haven't seen it, the request collection is out, and all of them are getting published overtime.**

 **I'm finishing up numbers 9, 10, and 11 as we speak. Now, I've been getting a couple of questions regarding the Shepherds soap opera, so I decided to have it clarified here. Olivia, Lissa, and Cordelia—and later, Severa, Owain, and Inigo—are all replaced by actors in the show. They look similar enough, but are very different from the ones in the real world. (To put it simply, they're separate from the Shepherds TV show.) Hopefully that clears up some things!**

 **Take care!**


	21. Chapter 21

**21**

Staring up at the ceiling still littered with dust, Hinoka busied herself in the early morning to count all the shadows she could see right above her—swirling about like _illusions_ in the air.

Normally, these illusions never lasted very long—for her eyes usually drifted back to sleep in a moment's notice. Hinoka was a complete _sleep_ addict at night; but of course, neither of her parents ever knew that.

Since she was getting older, the space in her room seemed like it was only getting _smaller_ —things were getting cramped, and barely any room was left whenever she came home, throwing her stuff on the floor in exhaustion. Nights in bed were often filled with the sound of crickets outside; and, occasionally, her own TV as background noise.

Today was pleasantly different, however, for a _number_ of reasons— _besides_ Nishiki's new ring of pee on the carpet. ( _That_ was annoying, but Hinoka herself had to digress.)

Beside her, not that far from where she was, lay a tossling Takumi, who struggled _desperately_ to sleep—as his eyes were sealed shut from whatever _madness_ he was fighting in the darkness of the room. His hair pooled around her sheets like silk, overlapping Hinoka's own hand when she shifts in bed to tuck some of it behind his ear; cold to the touch.

The little grumble he murmurs under his breath at her touch is _adorable_ , and makes the elder girl chuckle; but the sigh being held back still yearns to come out. Takumi only ever sought refuge in Hinoka's room when something—as she'd _successfully_ predicted—was wrong.

As a child, he'd done this all the time; _frequently_ , even. He'd climb into her bed while shaking all over, crying over how a _takoyaki_ monster wouldn't leave him alone; _never, ever, ever._

Takumi would curl around Hinoka like a little roly poly, falling asleep only when she traced soothing circles over his backside. It _always_ worked, no matter what.

But now, as the years passed on—Takumi was getting _too_ old for this; both in size, and in mind. There would come a time when little strokes of her hand could no longer soothe him like it did as a child—and when her occasional whispered of " _dream happy thoughts"_ would only end up making things _terribly_ worse.

But watching her brother sleep soundly next to her—knowing she was well nearby—left a better feeling in Hinoka's gut than waking up to his bitter silence the next day.

The pale outbreak of morning arrives once again, and Hinoka slithered out of bed, careful not to wake Takumi up. Stretching out aching muscles, her hands reach for her cellphone left abandoned on her dresser. Her _Hello Kitty_ pajama pants drag on the carpet floors when she takes small, barely audible steps towards her mirror— _just_ to see if her eyes weren't all puffy and disgusting from sleep.

Upon checking the lock screen, she sees some messages that had been left in her absence—four from _Hinata_ , two from _Oboro_ , and one from an _unknown_ number.

Either Takumi had _hijacked_ her phone while she was asleep (which was impossible, since he practically hid under her covers until _she_ fell asleep), or she'd gotten hacked last minute.

Both answers seemed _pretty_ plausible, due to the complete _nonsense_ that ensued when Hinoka unlocked her phone.

* * *

 ** _Messages(4)_**

 ** _TAKUMIIII_**

 ** _BIG BRO HINATA IS HERE FOR YOU_**

 ** _But, why'd you give me your sister's phone number...?_**

 ** _Is everything okay?_**

* * *

She could easily tell this was Hinata, for the little emotion he used afterward (:'^( ) was very... _Hinata-like._

It raised her suspicions a bit, though—if she went by what Hinata had said about _six_ hours ago, Takumi must've given him her phone number. He was never in her contacts, even though they'd known each other back in Japan.

 _Hm_...

Hinoka glanced at Oboro's messages, and saw a solid paragraph that was signed in her name at the bottom.

* * *

 ** _Messages (2)_**

 ** _I'm sure you're Takumi's sister, so I'll make my presence short. If_** ** _you want to know, Takumi told us a while ago to use this number in case of "something." Not really sure what he meant, since he was pretty vague about it._** ** _Maybe it's a nightmare...I'm not sure..._**

 ** _If you could, it's mean the world to me and Hinata if you messaged us back about him—we're both really worried._**

 ** _Thank you for your time, Hinoka!_**

* * *

 _Something is wrong._

"Takumi."

Hinoka set her phone down on the dresser, crossing over to his side as he continued to snore away in the morning darkness. She didn't have time to check the unknown number, even if she wanted to.

Once again, she'd caught onto her suspicions too slowly—letting Takumi slip through her fingers when something was _clearly_ up.

She shook him roughly by the shoulders, hoping to rouse him awake. Hinoka knew her brother wasn't that much of a morning person, so she tried to hold back from _pinching_ him.

Slowly, but surely—Takumi _eventually_ woke up, to the brash force of her hand gripping his shoulder like a metal claw in an arcade game. " _Hinoka_ , what're you doing?" He grumbled, hiding his face in the tufts of his hair. "I'm _trying_ to sleep..."

Rolling on his back, the light filters slowly in his eyes—and even though he tried hard to block it away, Hinoka practically tied her brother's hands behind his back; _somehow_.

With the way she was staring at him, Takumi had a pretty good feeling that she was in another one of her " _I know you're hiding something from me,"_ spells—causing his face to blanch all over.

"Is there something wrong, Takumi?" She asks, propping him up next to a pillow. "...Anything _I_ should know about?"

She was like another _Mikoto_ ; just waiting to get a decent answer out of him (or she'd interrogate him all morning). "...Not that I'd know of," he replied, pure and absolute in his own answer. "I was having a _fantastic_ dream, till you interrupted."

Hinoka almost wanted to scoff. The sarcasm in his voice made her disbelief almost _too_ obvious.

"Seemed to me like you were almost having a nightmare, if you ask me."

He furrowed his brows instantly, shaking his head in pure denial. _Him_? _Nightmares_? Never. Nightmares were for little kids; _babies_.

And Takumi was _no_ baby. "I'm fine," he says, turning away from her. "It's six in the morning; stop worrying so much."

"Hm." Even with the irritated undertone in his voice, Hinoka's barely convinced. "Then, what's all this about you telling your friends to get _my_ phone number?"

Takumi doesn't bother to move; but he _does_ freeze in place. Slowly, he peers back, to where only the whites of his eyes (and some of his irises) can be seen in the small tinge of light filtering in the room.

 _Gotcha_.

"... _phone_."

He muttered something under his breath—something Hinoka could _barely_ understand, and almost couldn't catch.

 _What?_

"Say it again, Takumi. I didn't hear you."

" _ **Nothing**_."

" _What_? No! You're obviously hiding something. Tell me."

Silence said a _lot_ of things—but in Takumi's case, it meant absolutely _nothing_. He turned back to the wall beside him, and laid contently with his mouth shut. Hinoka waited a couple more minutes, before she completely _lost_ it. If Takumi wasn't going to spill the beans _himself_ , then she was sure to bring it out of him. (Because that's what big sisters _always_ did.)

" _Hey_ ," she whispered, "If you don't say something, I'll tell _Dad_."

An ear is perked, and Takumi turned around again in pure _horror_. "You wouldn't _dare_."

A smile graces her lips. "I _would_."

" _No_ , Hinoka."

Crossing her arms, she makes her stance defiant. " _Yes_ , Takumi. If you don't want me to say anything, you're going to tell me now. Okay?"

Takumi darted out of the room before Hinoka had much of a chance to say more.

* * *

 **Words can't describe how _livid_ I am at myself.**

 **This chapter, originally, was much longer than what is really here—but what happened, after what, 5 whole days of writing? I clicked the wrong thing; and _boom,_ just like that, ev** **erything was _gone_. **

**Of course, I was mad then—but then I was like; well, hold on a minute; "let me calm down, and just rewrite what I had the first time."**

 ** _That_ didn't go well. The minute I try to italicize one word, Microsoft decided it wanted to delete _everything~!_**

 **So now, I'm really frustrated, and I honestly feel as though I pretty much failed all of you for giving you such a crappy chapter. I sincerely apologize for that.**

 **When I'm not interally shooting myself in the head rewriting what _should've_ been in this chapter, I'll muster up the courage to try and write a decent plot mover for this story.**

 **Not to say that this is going on hiatus! (Oh no, that won't happen!) But I need to let off some steam (while also using two seperate documents for my drafts instead of one for a backup.)**

 **Take care!**


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

" _Whoaaaa_! Look, Kamui! It's so _sunny_ out here!" Excitement rings loud in her voice; like a little kid overlooking an amusement park for the very first time. "It's ridiculous!"

"I **know** , Felicia. We've been here before." Kamui's smile is quick— ** _suave_** , in a way that makes him seem like a total _playboy_. " _Many_ times, actually."

More locks of strawberry blonde lean against the perilous force of the bus windows, as Felicia continued to strain to see. "...That's _amazing_..." She murmured.

 _Jakob_ , in short, was a man who thought he could tolerate many things.

 _Many, many things_.  Not including headaches.

Being Kamui's assistant called for the ability to tolerate as **much** as he could. Dealing with imbeciles from Amazon, when they'd send him the wrong shade of white for Kamui's wig—working around the annoyance of sewing needles when they pricked his fingers _raw_ out of clumsiness.

 ** _Oh_** , and the _people_ too—how could he _forget_? There were many scatterbrained, _pathetic_ people in the world; and at some point, he'd have had to deal with them at some point to. (And he _did_ , to an extent.)

But, unfortunately for _her_ , Felicia Kron is **not** one of those people. On the mental list of people he truly _cannot_ stand, she is at the very _top_.

Face squished against the window—as if she were a _grade schooler_ just let out on a field trip—she gaped in awe over the passing scenery of downtown Florida; the perilous skyscrapers, the plethora of trees, parks, and restaurants, and the blanket of light casted by the sun's warm rays.

Jakob would've thought it looked nice too; but the fact that the city bus—a _city_ bus, of all things—he was forced to ride smelled like morning breath and socks was disgusting. He wanted to throw up, for god's sake.

"For the love of _God_ , Felicia," He muttered, patting the girl on the back to sit down already. "You look like an overgrown walrus. Could you please act like a _decent human being_ and sit down?"

The assistant turned around in her seat, just to look at the man sitting beside her with his arms crossed along his chest in shock. Was he really calling her fat, at _eight o'clock in the morning?_

" _Jakob_ , that's not very nice!" She retorted loudly, puffing out her cheeks before turning to her sister in defiance. (Because by the gods, she would _**not**_ be insulted today.) Jakob was always a big meanie to her; but today had already gone too far already.

" _Flora_! Can't you control your boyfriend here? He's being mean to me again!"

The elder girl's face is universally unmoving, while Jakob nearly yanked Felicia by the hair. Pushing icy blue strands out of her face, she raises her eyebrows to ascertain the current drama without wasting any of her time.

Flora had been passing the time away quietly on the dreary city bus, flipping through a magazine that'd been sent to her in the mail. Propped right next to Kamui (who was "checking his status" on his phone), her eyes flutter upward to the two—and truly, she can't help but smile.

"You two always do this when we go somewhere," she replied, turning to the next page while admiring the scenery around her from time to time. "Is there ever a time when you're _not_ fighting?"

Kamui's reply—which really, wasn't needed at all—comes in a sarcastic drawl, putting down his phone after being glued to it for ten minutes. "You're asking the wrong people, Flora." He says, batting an eyelash in both Felicia and Jakob's direction. "Felicia just messes up a lot sometimes."

 _"W-What?!"_ The girl gaped, heartbroken that Kamui had even said such a thing. "T-That's not true! It's not _my_ fault that Jakob thinks everything he does is...I don't know..."

 _Think_.

"W-Well, _perfect!"_

Jakob rolled his eyes, amused that she'd stated the most obvious thing in the world. "That's because everything I do _is_ perfect. I don't need you to confirm it, though."

Kamui laughed, as Felicia was on the verge of pulling her hair out.

"Let's see...I measure Kamui's _clothes_. I buy Kamui's food— _food that you should get your greedy little hands off of, by the wa_ y. Hm..." He listed off more brag-worthy traits right in Felicia's face, smiling wider with every " _What_?" and " _No way!_ " being thrown at him in a shrill squeak of defiance.

"It doesn't matter, Jakob. We all do things for Kamui—like me, for example!" Felicia puffed out her chest, about to delve into a stellar explanation, until—

"Felicia, we almost left you at the airport. That's _not_ helpful."

Rejection hit her harder than a semi-truck yet again. (Jakob was the driver, and he was more than pleased to have crushed any hope of Felicia having any say in anything.) Slinking back in her seat, the girl sighed, forcing herself to look back at Florida's generous scenery without "looking like a walrus."

All is unknowingly quiet, until Kamui slips into another sudden conversation. The group's been having those nonstop—and truly, it's beginning to get tiresome.

"Mozu sent me directions to Zura's place," he murmured, looking through his phone. "We're gonna have to get off the bus soon."

"And start walking to god knows where? No thank you."

Kamui breaks out into yet another grin. "Jakob, please. It's not far, as long as we get to the stop closest to her house."

...Wherever that stop happened to be. There were so many palm trees, street shops, and traffic lights in the way, Kamui barely had a clue as to knowing which path set them in the right direction, according to the stops that Mozu had sent him only minutes before.

"N-No matter _what_ , we'll get there before you know it."

While both Jakob and Felicia gave each other an awkward glance, Flora rolled her eyes, setting down her magazine inside her purse.

"He means we're going to be here for quite a while."

* * *

 _"Father, we need to talk."_

At the sound of his voice, Garon sighed at the table, setting a milky spoon back into the depths of his breakfast. Another nice bowl of _Frosted Flakes_ would've gone to waste, now that _Leo_ was making his esteemed entrance down the stairs.

With his pajama pants rolled up (Keaton peed on him again, unfortunately), he took each and every step with a dignified poise—as if he were on a mission to _conquer_ one of the _greatest_ evils in the world.

Elise and Camilla don't seem to pay the encounter any mind, as they greet their brother with smiles plastered all over their pretty little faces.

" _Morning_ , Leo!"

The boy stopped in his tracks, more than a bit surprised—since when did they look so cheery this early in the morning?

"H-Hi..." A shy wave in her direction deters Camilla from saying much else—even though she did _look_ like she'd been in paradise since last night.

Elise's smile, on the other hand, only brightens up even more when she clacks teeny tiny bunny slippers together against her ankles. Like the little angel she was, she passed a hot plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in his direction. (He was certain Keaton had already _ransacked_ his missing section of blueberries, for he was only sniffing around the kitchen for more.)

"You look like a _stick_ today, Leo!", she chirped, smirking with ease. "Since _**I**_ made breakfast today, I highly suggest you start eating!"

The elder boy raised a brow–but otherwise, he hadn't really said much of anything else about the matter. His only real concern was Garon— _big daddy,_ per say.

"Thank you, Elise—but I'll have to save that for later." _I gotta keep my eyes on the prize_.

( _Oh_ , if only he felt cool enough to say that out loud.)

Keaton sniffed at Leo's pants as he made his way around the table, setting himself down at the seat farthest from Garon. Plopping next to Camilla instead, he looked to her happily as she poured out a couple of dog treats to put in his bowl.

Placing his own plate down in front of him, Leo grabbed a fork from the drawer—only to begin a brutal stabbing spree to get the scrambled eggs off the surface. He's eyeing Garon with the most keenest of stares—but the old man doesn't notice until he's halfway though his bowl.

Camilla and Elise exchange short, loose glances, wondering what was going on.

"... _Father_ ," Leo started again, ripping off a piece of bacon with a harsh yank of his hand. (So very edgy; exactly the kind of vibe be wanted to give off today.) "...I still want to talk."

Garon grunted, moody as ever. flipping through the paper as a means to completely disregard his youngest son. "And _I'm_ still eating," he replied.

 _Ah._ He was being snappy this morning. (But unlike any of the others, two could **certainly** play at that game.)

"Regardless of whether or not you are eating; I would like you to at least listen to what _I_ have to say." Short, sweet, and to the point—Leo mentally fist-bumped himself in his mind. (And, for a moment, he imagined he could do the same with Odin and Niles.)

Garon stared at him with an expression as blank as an empty sheet of paper—but it doesn't last for very long, as he drifts off into an annoyed sigh. (Seriously, the kid begged way too much for his liking.)

"What do you _want_ , Leo?" He chewed up a mouthful of cereal rather grumpily, before laying his spoon down to waste even more time away from the only breakfast that truly mattered to him. "Better be important."

Camilla laced her hand under her chin, generally piqued as well. " _Oh_ , do tell."

Leo blinked at elder his sister warily, uneasy at the way she propped her head on her hands so coolly, leaning in as if this were the scoop of the century.

"...Mother called me this morning," he replied, after leaving everyone (excluding Keaton) in a deathly silence. "...And she told me a **couple** things."

Elise gasped aloud as if she were on a soap opera thriller—as if it truly was the scariest thing in the world. "Did she _really?"_

A sigh escapes agitated lips. "Yes, Elise. _Really_."

Easily enough, the whole group is surprised—except Garon's; and that reaction was to be expected. Though Sabine rarely called—one could always sense a time when she did. (Because once in a blue moon, he'd grow soft and _nostalgic_ ; for he hadn't heard her voice in so long.)

But clearly, Leo wasn't there to just reestablish old times; old memories that probably didn't need to come back. (After all, his defiant little entrance proved as such.)

"What about it then, son? Did you have a good time?"

Leo shook his head slowly, mentally taking about a thousand breaths a minute. But like **Vaike** —he was a _man_. And real men always told it like it was; no matter how terrible the outcome could have been. He could tell Garon how he felt; without having to _cry_ about it later.

"I want to know why you lied to her."

The sisters echo a synced gasp (before yelling " _Jinx_!" at each other obnoxiously) as Garon quirked a brow. Even with his cereal going soggy, his attention is all focused on Leo's now.

 _Yes_.

"Lie? In what way?"

"Yeah! In what way?" Elise's own innocent interjections didn't make things any better for both her or Leo. "Dad _never_ lies, Leo—you should know that by now!"

"E-Elise, _please_!" He kindly ignored the fact that his voice was on the verge of cracking. "He told her a multitude of _awful_ things, you know!" Things that Leo was way too embarrassed to say aloud. "Like...like..."

"The king's waiting on your answer, son. Wake up and smell the roses, won't you?"

Seeing him smirk was one thing—but seeing it turn as devilish as it did now made Leo want to cut into the nearest bathroom and stay there for an eternity. Could he reveal his darkest secrets now, when he was on the verse of being shamed for it for centuries at a time?

... _Yes_.

"...You said...I could hit on girls..." His voice only grew all the more quiet when he'd finished—brimming with flushed cheeks, whose pale surface matched that of the sunlight. (If the sunlight was a sixteen-year-old who lacked any sort of training in socializing with others properly.)

Camilla, meanwhile, burst out into a sheer bonanza of laughter with Elise— _oh_ , the old man couldn't have been any more **wrong** in his life.

" ** _Girls_**? Father, please—you mustn't joke around with Aunt Sabine so much. You know how worrisome she is."

Leo raised a questionable brow. "And you know this, _because_..."

"–Leo's a _total_ ladies man, now! Remember when Nishiki peed on him?"

While her elder brother cringed, Camilla couldn't help but laugh even harder. "I've only ever heard it in story, dear sister. But I _do_ remember those lovely little overalls he had on."

"And the way he left the house in them, too! I practically wanted to _scream_."

The boy bowed his head in shame, hoping to drive out the constant voices in his head by drowning himself in the yellow mound of scrambled eggs growing cold by the end of a fork. (He would've more than happily taken their fall, just to get away from this nonsense.)

"W-Well, alright...as long as you didn't tell her about—"

The elder man stopped him right in his tracks, fanning him off to finish the dreaded sentence. "Your _girlfriend_? Ah, yes. Secrets are secrets, I guess." Garon broke into a loud chortle, wiping away at his nose. "I'll try and keep it under wraps."

Leo hadn't really had a lot of plans that day—but hopefully, Sakura's situation was that of the same. (Not doing anything at all over the summer; to the point where the sentiment of even hoping it'll never end was pointless.)

He'd grown to be thinking about her a lot lately—more than a boy his age should be thinking about at all. (It was to the point where he'd begin to try and associate the main characters of his mother's book with himself and Sakura; but naturally, none of the male descriptions had ever described him very well.) He thought of her _smile_ , and her rosy little cheeks whenever they flushed in his direction. (And then her **laugh** —oh, a _sweet little song_ , that laugh was; carrying on like the tune of a nightingale.)

To be immersed in Sakura's presence; whether it be face to face or far away, was a better fate than having to suffer through the embarrassment of knowing that his own father was scheming along with his sisters.

...At least he still showed _some_ remorse.

Leo bowed his head, shuffling his feet around to finally look Garon in the eyes properly.

"We're not together...but thanks anyway, Father." _I knew I could sorta count on you._

Garon smiled right back, standing up from his place at the table to move towards his son—only to ruffle that sweet little blonde halo of his.

And, just like that...

The phone started to ring.

* * *

 ** _Ohhhhh my goodness._**

 **Ha, I'm so sorry it's been so long since I last updated. Guess it was a hiatus after all.**

 **Life happened, and I ended up getting swamped up by more things than one.** **Aside from the final three requests that I'll put up after I get some rest, I'll have to unfortunately say that I've dropped two of them, out of stress. (And frankly, no ideas.) So very sorry for that.**

 **I also want to thank those that gave me the advice to use Google Docs, (it's very helpful, and eased the pain of writing. I tried my best to write as much as I could, while balancing out how busy I got over the summer so far.**

 **Since it's been so long, I'll probably have to build up a better familiarity for myself to really get back in the groove of this story, so there may or may not be some filler chapters to refresh my memory (as well as yours, perhaps?) I sincerely hope that's okay.**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for your patience, (like seriously—I was so certain you all had forgotten this junk) and I hope you have a great rest of your...day, morning, night, or afternoon.**

 **Oh, and I almost forgot—**

 ** _THANKS SO MUCH FOR 200+ REVIEWS? WOW._** **I'VE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG THAT'S RIDICULOUS,,**

 **Seriously, guys; words can't describe how thankful I am :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

So, yes—the phone was most certainly ringing, right now. Leo wasn't so much as startled as he was painfully curious, and it showed in his more than blatant reaction upon seeing it vibrant against the ringer. He'd jolted up almost instantly from Garon and the others, catapulting to a destination where he was amazingly unsure as to whether or not the bill collectors ( read: mafia ) had finally returned a few days earlier to reprimand his father on not paying his dues.

The perfectly normal ( for _once_ ) scenery of a father ruffling his son's hair was cut short by the way Leo had sprinted—picking up the phone almost instantly ( while he was too much of a crippling simpleton to actually check the name first ), holding it up to his ear in order to discern what unholy spirit lie on the other end. If he hadn't picked it up so quick, he could've easily done a background check.,.

But, thankfully, it wasn't another one of the those automated messages from the telephone marketing chain, who would also waste their time in calling whilst Garon watched his soap operas rather religiously. Normally, they liked to bother the absolute harmony within a middle class family home with their nonsense, and never ceased to ruin perfectly good moments that Leo would've most likely never witnessed again.

"Hello," he quips, more of a statement than a question, as though he really knew what he was doing. "This is the _second eldest DuBois of the DuBois family—_ state your name, profession, and your **reason** for calling here."

Actively, the other three roll their eyes into oblivion, wondering if Leo had really spent the last thirty seconds of his life giving off an introduction worthy of being put in some obscure period drama—aside from the thrill of soap operas, Garon and Camilla had also spent their time together watching them, from time to time.

In Leo's eyes, he must've seemed like the haughty elder prince whose serious undertones cast him off as a brooding sort of fellow—his tone proper and elitist, despite being the one walking around in the most unflattering pajamas ever since Elise wore an inflatable tutu to bed ( don't ask ), holding the phone in such a way that he could pull out a million dollars from his pocket alone.

Camilla hummed lightly under her breath, partially amused. "He must've bumped his head in some silly dream, after all..." Looking upon her father, she's curious about his own input as well—

But if anyone knew Garon as well as her, a lot of his internal dialogue seemed to appear within his face—wrinkles included. Right now, he'd seemed unimpressed; and for very honest intentions.

The person on the end, however, let out a hearty sort of laughter that startled this 'prince' mid-reply, the briskness of his voice over the phone beginning to sound...painfully familiar. There wasn't much he could say about it for the time being, except for the fact that the feeling it bore within the blonde was equivalent to that of _warmth_.

 _"I'm talking to the second eldest, am I?"_ Clearly, a man's voice, as that masculinity could never be mistaken. _"Well, Camilla...I'd say your voice has gotten rather low for my liking, hasn't it?"_

A pause assumes the conversation in its early stages, at first, with Leo's eyes blinking faster than the headlights of a dingy old car, vaguely aware of what the other had said. Something about his sister, and—

 _Wait._ That was the problem. No one talked about his sister over the blue over the phone, unless it was one of her high school suitors looking to get Garon's blessing to date her, or requesting her presence to confirm the latest new order of Elise's new toys ( courtesy of Orbeez TV ads )—other than that, no one else should've known...

Unless he really **_WAS_** talking to a high school suitor of her's, who was now a bill collector! Was he working for them too, _fixated_ on winning her heart by exposing her family? For what reason did he have of going so far, besides the obvious **obsession** of having her for his _own_?

He doubled over in a rather striking blush, lips sputtering out nonsense ( while Camilla instinctively rose up in case he'd been threatened...or something ) while his hands gripped the counter top. On what godforsaken planet bore this horrifying of a coincidence? Were the _bill collectors_ bringing _hit men_ into this, too? Were they already marking his home down on the little map hanging on a bulletin board ( like all the crime shows did ), awaiting for the next fool to pick up the phone and give away their location?

Obvious **delusions** aside, Leo really didn't know how to react to anything the man had said at all, even if it was just a few sentences. He'd failed his family, and now they'd be killed!

Eyes widening, the younger boy's voice reached a rather unsteady octave, visibly blanching with every moment spent on the line. "W-Who're you talking about? A-And how do you know my sister's name?" He was trembling with every word, really, unable to form any other sort of order within his speech.

Garon rolled his eyes entirely, and escaped to the living room to turn on the TV. Watching crappy actors attempt at making an even crappier plot more entertaining was much more thrilling than whatever his son had gotten into.

"Are they talking about me?" A natural at being noticed ( and mentioned ) all the time, Elise beamed in the corner at her spot nearest to the table. The little ray of sunshine kept on smiling, even when the other ared at her to quiet. _Of course they're not talking about you,_ he wanted to say, but disclosing Elise's name would've made this reality all the more worse. A normal human being would've put the phone down by now, and spend the next few hours convincing their family to build a shelter underground, but—

Leo kept the phone intact against his ear: almost too terrified to even let the call end. What an idiot.

Nonetheless, the man continued—seemingly too amused to end this conversation now, even if he'd wanted to. It'd been a while since he'd heard Leo's voice ( and even Elise's in the background, the little sweetheart ), so he'd expected it to be flustered, at some point.

 _"I have siblings myself, you know. The second eldest just happens to be named Camilla, as well. I also have a younger sister, named Elise...and the middle child, of course..."_ He left off on an suspenseful note, for very obvious reasons.

"...The middle child...?" Voice dropping to a whisper, Leo had soon been planning out his options in his head. Hiding underground was horrifying, so perhaps escaping to Europe was the best idea. He may not have been a suitor, but this was still creepy.

" _Yes_ ," A satisfied hum filled the phone again. " _The middle child. He's a very intelligent boy, but his shyness often deters him from being very active in society—in the few times I've called him this year, he always seems to give me the same, flustered reaction. I doubt he'll ever get over that, but I love him all the same."_

"What is his name, then? If you say it's **mine** , which will _not_ be disclosed, I will be forced to _not_ believe you! State your name _now_ , stranger, or...I'll call the police!" Yes! Because the police were sure to take this man out, and leave his family alone...

Even more laughter erupted over the phone by the time Leo was done with his 'threat', and it'd been clear by the way that he'd nearly died from guffawing that the man's polite resilience towards the other's hostility was going down slowly. How silly had this boy gotten over the years, and without him to witness it? It was almost adorable...

"... _Leo,"_ He began, wiping a momentary tear from his eye. Composing himself was the best way he could talk, without throwing himself into another fit of chuckling. " _It's Xander, you silly boy."_

...

Cue incoherent screaming.

* * *

Alexander DuBois was the eldest child of the DuBois family; the precious gem of a faithful lineage spanning thousands of years, before having only been represented by his father. As a child, he was an absolute mama's boy, fawning over Katerina at every chance he got ( even while making a temporary enemy of his father, who always fought for his wife's affections ). He was popular in school, with more than enough friends at his side.

Charismatic and kind, his looks and personality combined made anyone fall for the stereotypical nice guy trope, which was what he had been up until his high school graduation. Along the way, of course, he'd been blessed with three other siblings, and three different mothers, treating them as his _aunts_ , rather than stepmothers. ...If were the latter, things would get too complicated.

Going to college at one of the most prestigious ( both in a literal and self-proclaimed sense ) universities to date, Xander's school life had began to get too wild to function—most of his time being begrudgingly spent on his studies, rather than calling in on his family and asking how they were. It started to take a toll on his state of mind, and how he'd gone about his paperwork later on. Ranting on his assignments rather than doing to work assigned got him in trouble a couple of times ( after accidentally submitting it, of course ), and he'd been late to a class for the first time in two years. The reprimanding he received was horrific, and he'd cried in a bathroom for the rest of the day...

But his family thought he was the _god_ of the family, and therefore had no actual ability of crying in the bathroom—to his family, Xander's assignments were always done on time ( a lie, for some ), he was a stellar cook who could make his own food ( if you considered microwave lasagna a five star meal ), and had absolutely no reason whatsoever to not be a success.

Oh, how _wrong_ his family had been, pinning expectation after expectation, tale after tale, to the point where he felt like some old fable about a gracious prince, who bore naught a single flaw.

Playful at heart, Xander never really understood why the others thought so highly of him. After all, he was in college; going to the occasional party and engaging conversation with the passing woman who became brave enough to talk to him. He talked with his mouth full all the time when eating a bag of chips ( even if Garon said he was so very proper ), and found an interest in seeing how many times he could throw a water bottle in the air and get it to stand up perfectly without fail.

He wasn't the prestigious son everyone had been talking about like a household name, and he was that much of a slacker, either.

He was just... _Xander_. And his call to Leo had let that side of him show, no matter how bewildered and terrified the other had been.

"Yes, yes, it's me," he'd said, still chuckling over his younger brother's gasping for air. Camilla had shouted hello, too—and Elise merely spazzed out in glee, as she usually did. He wished he called sooner, but English essays were unrelenting...

"How are you, Leo? I must say I missed hearing your voice after all this time..."

The boy's sputtering seemed to escalate on the other side, which wasn't unwelcome, in the slightest. Hearing how excited he'd been of him calling was enough satisfaction within itself, up to the point of bringing tears to well in his eyes.

It's hard to say whether or not it was an exaggeration, but he was close.

" _You haven't called in ages, Xander. I was almost worried that college had killed you, and buried you without our knowledge..."_

 _"I thought Father just kept blocking your calls."_ This was Camilla's voice, but it was hard to catch at first.

 _"I thought Xander forgot about us! You didn't forget about us, did you, Xander?"_

The elder laughed at Elise's remark, knowing all too well that he had a harder time forgetting them than all the other myriad assignments he had left to do.

"I would never forget you, Elise. Hearing your lovely little voice again is music to my ears, after all."

He could hear the youngest squeal at that, avid footsteps being made to a place farther out from the phone's range, calling Garon's name to tell him 'the good news'.

Leo, meanwhile, kept the heartfelt conversation going, delving into a topic more or less relevant to the call itself.

 _"What have you even been up to, Xander? With your kind of silence, it's hard to ever keep track of what you're doing..."_

That was a funny thing to mention, really, since he didn't actually know himself, at this rate. Throughout school, he'd been doing the same things he'd told Garon, working mindlessly like a robot in his classes in order to get the grades he'd needed to satisfy the old coot. Was what he was doing now even something he could be proud of himself? ...Or was it all just a lie, like his reputation?

"...I've been...up to many things, brother. It'd be much too frivolous to get into detail."

A pause of unease, and then, continuation. _"...Understandable. You are the prodigy, after all._ " Leo had spoke as though this were entirely nothing new for his brother, even if he'd secretly wished for some of his luck to be brought onto him, too.

Hearing it made Xander a little sad, though—unknowingly making it worse by hiding the fact that he had been swamped up with work he wasn't even sure he wanted to go through anymore. In this way, he was ultimately lying to his brother, and everyone else listening in on the conversation.

"Well, I wouldn't say that, Leo. I've just been busy, is all."

" _Again, understandable. You could've at least left a text, though."_

"I've strayed from texting too often, actually. I tend to get distracted a bit too easily by it." And by distracted, he'd meant being swayed to download every possible version of Candy Crush ever, and play it till 3am.

A _bad, bad_ thing.

" _That's a silly way of putting it, but...I suppose that's alright, Xander."_ Truthfully, Leo was confused, but it didn't matter. As long as he were talking to his elder brother, it was fine.

Now, if he could've filled him in on the **recent** happenings as of late ( and still leave room to hear what his reaction would entail ), that would've been _grand_...

Xander had about all day before he went to his next class later on at noon, and was openly pleased to know Leo had something to tell him after all this time. Had he been involved in any summer programs, as of late? Had he made friends? Gotten a job? Received good marks on his report card in the mail? Oh, he'd hoped it was all good news!

...What he ended up hearing, though...was an entirely **different** story.

* * *

 **I may be a day late, but shhhhhh—**

 **I got a little sickly since Thursday, so my overall production was a taaad slower than I intended it to. But, thankfully, I got it out in time before it was too late. Super sorry for getting it delayed!**

 **I'm still in the process of rewriting things, as well as getting more into the groove of writing these characters again, since it's been a while, and I feel somewhat rusty at writing fanfiction these days XD Even now, I'm amazingly nervous...**

 **Either way, thank you for reading, and I hope to see you soon for the next update! Those will be weekly, at the latest.**


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